Impasse
by Laine3112
Summary: The US Government does not give in to extortion of any kind. Will the powers that be make an exception to the rule or could this cost NCIS one of their finest agents? Crime Fic. Features whole team. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me and this story is not intended as an infringement of copyright. It has been written solely for entertainment and no profit has been made from its creation.

**Impasse**

**Chapter One**

In the basement level of the NCIS building, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs watched as his senior field agent climbed from the passenger side of a dark panel van. Dressed in well-worn denim jeans and a faded green Philadelphia Eagles t-shirt, Tony was sporting a goatee and his hair was darker and longer than usual. Despite an absence of fifteen years, when your agent accepts an undercover assignment in his old stomping ground, a change in appearance is a necessary precaution. While Gibbs wasn't a fan of DiNozzo's new look, according to Abby, it made him look "hotter than hot."

With a well-trained flick of his eyes, Gibbs sized up the younger man's demeanour; noting the firm set of his jaw and the stiff posture. As much as DiNozzo enjoyed the challenge of working undercover, eight weeks spent infiltrating a drug cartel took its toll both physically and mentally – his agent was running on vapours and the two and a half hour drive from Philadelphia had done nothing to ease the tension.

Grunting his thanks to the driver, Tony heaved the sliding door open, firmly gripping the bicep of the heavyset prisoner in the back and guiding his exit from the van. With his hands restrained behind his back, Sean Mahoney stepped down, hitting his head painfully on the door frame and stumbling momentarily before regaining his balance.

"Sorry about that," Tony uttered without remorse, earning a disdainful glare as Mahoney straightened to his full height.

_Sean Mahoney and his son, James, had been heading a drug operation in Philadelphia for two years, leaving a trail of dead bodies in their wake. They recruited young men off the street as pushers and dealers; men who could not resist the lure of fast money and the promise of a better way of life; men who quickly served their purpose and, more often than not, wound up dead. That fate had been tragically assigned to twenty-two year old, Lance Corporal Matthew Jenkins._

_Jenkins was a promising Marine serving in Afghanistan when his parents were killed in an automobile accident. With no insurance to speak of, Corporal Jenkins inherited a large mortgage, back taxes and the guardianship of his two young siblings. He was on terminal leave waiting for his discharge from the Corps when he met James Mahoney who offered a solution to his financial burden. Several weeks after that, Jenkins' lifeless body was found in an alley._

_NCIS had taken the lead in the investigation and Tony had convinced his old informant, Billy Simmons, to help him infiltrate Mahoney's operation. While wearing a wire, and in true DiNozzo fashion, Tony had inveigled a confession from Sean Mahoney. The subsequent raid on Mahoney's warehouse by NCIS and Philly PD had resulted in the arrest of Sean Mahoney and six associates but James had slipped through the net and brutally murdered Tony's informant._

Gibbs followed silently as Tony shoved the former cartel boss toward the lock-up, dutifully signed the charge sheet and escorted Mahoney to a vacant cell. As the door closed and locked with a definitive click, the man turned to glare menacingly at Tony through the bars.

"This isn't over, DiNozzo," he hissed.

Tony flashed a half-hearted smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Get used to those bars, Mahoney," he countered as he turned to walk away.

Mahoney's lips curled, baring his nicotine-stained teeth in a contemptuous sneer.

"Watch your back," he growled. "You don't want to end up like Billy Simmons."

Instinctively, Gibbs was moving seconds before his agent launched himself at the cell. Threading his arms between the bars, Tony grabbed the lapels of Mahoney's jacket and pulled back powerfully until he heard the crack of the man's head against the bars.

"_You son of a bitch!"_Tony seethed.

Grabbing his agent from behind, Gibbs wrestled Tony's arms to his sides and fought against the younger man's efforts to get free.

"Tony!" Gibbs snapped as his agent continued to struggle against him. "_DiNozzo, stand down!"_

The unequivocal tone of the barked command pierced Tony's consciousness and, with his chest heaving, he allowed himself to be led away from the cell.

Leaning into the retina scanner, Gibbs was relieved when the elevator doors opened immediately. He nudged his agent into the car and pressed the button for the operations level. Tony leaned heavily against the wall, rubbing a hand across his brow and pressing his fingers firmly into his temples to dispel a brewing headache. Gibbs watched him closely, his blue eyes sharp and knowing.

"You okay?"

Tony shrugged a shoulder in silent reply.

"Mahoney's looking at twenty to life...you did good. Got the old man to confess to Jenkins' murder and shut down a major drug syndicate."

Tony huffed a laugh.

"Tell that to Billy's widow. While we were patting ourselves on the back, James Mahoney was emptying his Beretta into her husband," he stated flatly.

Gibbs flicked the emergency stop switch, bringing the car to a halt and muting the lighting.

"Tony-"

The younger man pounded his fist into the wall, wincing as the pain reverberated up his arm.

"He didn't want to do it, Boss," he said. "I pressured Billy into vouching for me so I could get close to the Mahoneys. I _swore_ I'd protect him."

Tony took several deep breaths, attempting to quell the turbulent emotions that were burning inside of him. The muscles along his jaw line contracted while he continued to bite down on his anger. After a moment of thunderous silence he turned to his team leader, his expression as determined as Gibbs had ever seen it.

"I want him, Boss. I want James Mahoney."

"We'll get him," Gibbs replied with a succinct nod.

They traveled the rest of the way in silence and, as the doors slid open, they stepped into the operations room. A smattering of applause from the other duty teams, acknowledged a job well done and Tony's safe return. Not for the first time, Gibbs watched bemused as his agent forcibly suppressed his feelings, slipped on the affable mask and held it firmly in place. The corners of his mouth bore the beginning of a smile as Tony motioned for silence.

"Thank you, all," he grinned, waving his hands in a shooing gesture. "Now, get back to work...go catch bad guys."

Rounding the partition into the bullpen, they walked to their respective desks where McGee and Bishop were waiting.

"All hail the return of the conquering hero," McGee quipped.

"Job's not done yet, McGoo. Besides, it was a team effort."

"Maybe, but you're the one who spent eight weeks undercover," McGee countered.

"And you guys spent the last eight weeks tracking the evidence we needed and watching my back. Like I said; team effort."

McGee nodded, accepting the acknowledgement.

"Oh, Boss," the IT specialist said. "Director Vance has been called to the Pentagon. He wants to meet with you and Tony for a debriefing when he gets back."

Across the bullpen, Ellie Bishop eyed the senior field agent with concern. She'd be the first to admit that she didn't know Tony very well but even she could tell that he was exhausted. Ellie removed a candy bar from her desk – the same brand she had watched Tony pilfer from her drawer whenever he thought she wasn't watching. Casually, she rounded her workstation and placed it on Tony's desk.

"A welcome home gift," she smiled.

Barely aware of the small talk or the gesture, Tony looked lost in his thoughts as he unconsciously stroked his goatee.

"Tony?"

"Any news on James Mahoney?" he asked, snapping back to the present.

"Ah...not yet," McGee replied, exchanging a curious glance with Bishop. "He hasn't accessed his bank accounts and we've had no hits on our BOLO."

"Dammit," Tony cursed, carding his fingers through his hair.

"We'll get him, Tony," McGee said. "He has to surface sooner or later."

"We should have had him," Tony replied, surging to his feet and pacing in an agitated manner. "I blew it. I must have done something or said something that tipped him off."

"Or...maybe James just got lucky," Bishop suggested. "I mean, he idolizes his father, right? Surely if he had any idea who you were or that the warehouse was about to be raided, he'd have warned his father. You did what you had to do...you got Jenkins' murderer."

"She's right, Tony," McGee added. "Everyone knows that Sean Mahoney is the brains of the operation and James is the brawn. You cut the head off the snake and shut the syndicate down."

"James Mahoney is still out there," Tony said, still pacing. "He's a wild card; he's unpredictable. He may not have his old man's brains but without Dad around to rein him in, he's dangerous as hell."

He looked up in surprise as Gibbs blocked his path.

"Which is why you don't go anywhere without McGee, Bishop or me until James Mahoney's in custody," the team leader said casually.

Tony's jaw dropped.

"Come on, Boss, you can't be serious!" He took a moment to unsuccessfully stare down the older man but Gibbs' face remained as impassive as ever. "Okay...so maybe you can be serious but you're overreacting a little, don't you think?"

"I'm with the Boss on this one, Tony," McGee said. "Like you said, James Mahoney's dangerous and unpredictable."

"Not helping, McGee," Tony snapped before turning his attention to the new team member. "Bishop, you're the hotshot analyst, you got anything to add."

"Nope, not me," she said quickly.

"Good," Tony said, throwing a look over his shoulder. "See, Boss, no babysitting necessary."

Bishop squirmed under the scrutiny of her team leader and spoke up.

"Except that...er, I think Gibbs and McGee are right," she winced. "Sorry, Tony."

Outnumbered and too exhausted to argue the point, Tony slumped heavily into his chair.

"Okay, you win," he said wearily. "But I want it known for the record that I think you're all overreacting."

Leaning forward to switch on his computer monitor, Tony keyed in his password and accessed the Unified Crime Reporting program to begin logging his report. His hands shot out to support him as his chair spun quickly around and he came face to face with his team leader.

"Boss?"

"Go home – hit the rack."

"Thanks, Boss, but if I don't finish my report by the time the director gets back, the next thing I'll be typing is my resume," Tony answered.

Gibbs leaned in to his agent and spoke again.

"Wasn't a suggestion, DiNozzo."

Tony glanced at his teammates who had both jumped to their feet, securing their weapons and grabbing their gear.

"What about my report?" he asked.

"Tomorrow's soon enough," Gibbs said turning to McGee and Bishop. "Take him home. Make sure he eats something. I'll relieve you at twenty-four hundred."

The former Marine suppressed a grin as McGee and Bishop took up their positions by Tony's side and escorted the grumbling agent from the building.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Finding the outer office unattended Gibbs gave the door a perfunctory knock and walked into the director's office without waiting to be invited.

"You wanted to see me, Director?"

"Gibbs, take a seat," Vance replied looking up from a mountain of reports. He frowned and looked toward the door. "I assume DiNozzo will be joining us?"

"Tomorrow. McGee and Bishop took him home."

"Is he injured?"

"Been eight week's Leon. He's out on his feet."

"And his report?"

"You'll get it tomorrow," Gibbs told him.

"I'm afraid it can't wait until tomorrow," Vance said. "I just came from the Pentagon. There are moves afoot to cut our operating budget."

"They're always cutting our budget, Leon. What's that got to do with DiNozzo's report?"

"The arrest of a Marine killer and the shutdown of drug cartel is the kind of thing that plays well in the press," Vance said. "It's the kind of case that SecNav can use to keep the appropriations committee at bay. DiNozzo's report and his testimony will be crucial. I need that report."

"You'll get it – when DiNozzo's had some rest," Gibbs said determinedly. "SecNav's waited eight weeks, Leon, she can wait one more night."

Vance raised an eyebrow at his senior agent.

"That's easy for you to say, you're not the one taking the calls. Hell, even the Philly PD is on my back. They're pissed as hell that we got Mahoney extradited to DC before he could face charges in Philadelphia."

"DA agreed that the murder of our Marine trumped their warrant for drug trafficking," Gibbs stated.

"Doesn't stop them bitching about it," Vance replied. He tapped his index finger thoughtfully against his pursed lips. "Why the protection detail for DiNozzo? Do you think James Mahoney's dumb enough to come after him?"

Gibbs climbed to his feet and headed for the door.

"You said it yourself, Leon," he replied over his shoulder. "Without Tony's testimony, we have no case."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

With his teammates sticking to him like glue, Tony arrived at the door of his apartment and fumbled in his pockets for his keys. He rolled his eyes as McGee grabbed the keys from his hand and nudged him safely away from the door. Signalling for Bishop to watch the hallway, McGee drew his weapon and silently entered the apartment. After clearing every room he motioned for Bishop to usher a rather bemused Tony inside.

"Nice place," Bishop stated. "I didn't know you played the piano."

"I dabble," Tony replied, shrugging out of his jacket and shoulder holster.

"Nobody dabbles on a baby grand," Bishop laughed, running her fingertips over the polished black wood.

"I see you finally upgraded to a King-sized bed," McGee noted from the bedroom door.

"I was motivated by the image of my father and my neighbour making out in my old bed."

Bishop looked at McGee with a mixture of confusion and repulsion on her face.

"You don't want to know," McGee assured her.

Tony returned from the kitchen with several take-out menus and handed them to Bishop.

"Whatever you choose is fine by me but super-size everything...I'm starving like Lee Marvin."

"Oh no you don't," Ellie replied. "You've probably been eating this stuff for weeks. If I can use your kitchen, maybe I can whip up something more nourishing."

"Knock yourself out," Tony said with a sweeping gesture toward the kitchen. "I'm gonna take a shower."

Ellie Bishop considered herself a better than average cook, however, as she walked into the kitchen, she was mindful of the fact that Tony had been on assignment in Philly for eight weeks. It was highly doubtful that she would find anything edible let alone nourishing. Taking a deep breath, she cracked open the refrigerator door and, to her surprise, found it stacked with fresh fruit and vegetables, meat, bread and milk.

"When did Tony have a chance to shop for groceries?" she asked.

"He didn't," McGee said, sprinkling flakes of fish food into the small tank and watching as the hungry fish devoured them. "When Tony's undercover, Gibbs restocks his kitchen at the end of his assignments. It's a Gibbs thing, just something he does."

As she prepared dinner, Ellie was struck by the depth of friendship that existed between the members of her new team. It was unlike anything she had encountered at NSA. In the short time she'd been working with the MCRT, she'd noticed the ribbing, the jokes and the occasional head slap but she knew instinctively that each of these men would do whatever it took to protect the others. They shared a kinship, a brotherhood. They were a family...and not for the first time, Ellie realized that it was a family to which she hoped she'd one day belong.

Twenty minutes later, McGee and Bishop were setting the table amid the mouth-watering aromas filling the apartment. Ellie cocked her head, her dark eyebrows knitted in a frown as she glanced at Tony's closed bedroom door.

"He's been in there a long time," she said. "Do you think we - and by _we_ I mean _you_ \- should check on him?"

McGee shook his head.

"It's part of his process," McGee replied.

"His process?"

"When he finishes an undercover assignment, he takes long showers to wash off the stink," he explained. "He'll be fine."

Another ten minutes passed; dinner was on the table and still, there was no sign of the senior field agent. Ellie glared intently at McGee, silently urging him to act. Reluctantly, he crossed the room to stand outside Tony's bedroom.

"Tony?" he called through the closed door. "Tony? Are you okay?"

Ellie placed her ear to the door and listened.

"The water's still running," she stated.

"See? What'd I tell you? He's probably still in the shower," McGee replied.

He started toward the dining area when Ellie grabbed his arm.

"What if something's wrong?" she whispered. "What if he's passed out or he slipped and hit his head or something. We were assigned to protect him."

"Against bad guys with guns not against bathroom accidents," McGee argued.

"I don't know Gibbs as well as you do but I don't want to have to tell him that Tony got hurt on our watch."

"You and Abby should get along famously," he muttered. "You both have a flair for theatrics."

Rolling his eyes dramatically, the IT specialist tried the handle and pushed tentatively at the door.

"I hope you realize that if he's naked in there, no amount of therapy will help me," he quipped.

The bedroom was clouded with steam from the shower and in the muted light, they saw Tony sprawled across his bed - fully clothed and softly snoring.

"I guess he didn't make it to the shower," McGee said softly as he turned the water off.

"Do you think we should wake him?" Ellie whispered.

"Nah, let him sleep," McGee replied, ushering Bishop out of the room and closing the bedroom door behind them.

"O-kay, but what do you think Gibbs is going to say when you tell him Tony hasn't eaten?"

McGee looked thoughtful before responding.

"I think he'll say, 'Gee, McGee, you look a lot like Bishop," the IT specialist smiled at Bishop's alarmed expression before turning his attention to the dining table. "Shame to let dinner go to waste," he said. "Come on, let's eat."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

In the bowels of the NCIS building, Sean Mahoney languished on a rickety holding-cell bunk that struggled to support his large frame. White-haired and thickset, he was an imposing figure with the pugilistic jaw and badly-broken nose of a former prize-fighter.

The bunk gave a mournful groan as Mahoney twisted onto his side to glance at the clock on the far wall. Noting it was well past midnight, he sighed deeply – if things had gone according to his instructions, there'd be no turning back now.

He released an audible sigh; his unyielding arrogance still refusing to comprehend how the likable but garrulous man he'd met several weeks ago, had turned out to be an undercover federal agent.

To survive in his line of work, good instincts and a highly suspicious nature were paramount. Sean Mahoney had always prided himself on having both. But DiNozzo – or Bricker as he'd called himself - with his affable nature and quick wit, had breached the older man's near impregnable defences and, somehow, enticed the confession of the murder of Lance Corporal Jenkins. The words had barely left Mahoney's mouth when the smile disappeared from Bricker's face and his features hardened with naked dislike. He drew his weapon and the older man found himself staring into the intense glare of a seasoned law enforcement officer.

During his time in NCIS custody, Sean Mahoney observed Gibbs and DiNozzo's interactions with a great deal of interest. As he adjusted his position on the uncomfortable bunk, his dark eyes grew dim as he recalled how the two agents had inadvertently revealed their Achilles heel…each other.

FLASHBACK

_Moments after DiNozzo had revealed his identity and placed him under arrest, the warehouse was swarming with a dozen agents and Mahoney and his men were taken into custody. He'd watched as the silver-haired lead agent known as Gibbs, quickly secured the scene before eyeing his agent for any sign of injury or distress. The dialogue that followed between the two agents was brief and unremarkable but Mahoney's sharp instincts sensed something more between them._

_Several hours later, in a Philly PD interrogation room, news was received of Billy Simmons' brutal murder. Mahoney watched with perverse pleasure as the younger agent paled visibly and his eyes filled with turbulent emotions. Certain of the Mahoneys, involvement in the death of his informant, DiNozzo took two menacing steps toward him when his path was blocked by the lead agent. Sensing the younger man's self-control was hanging by a thread, Gibbs took hold of DiNozzo's arm and led him from the room._

_Through the open door, Mahoney watched as the former Marine spoke in a quiet but firm voice and DiNozzo nodded his head in reluctant agreement. His curiosity piqued when Gibbs gave his agent a gentle slap to the back of the head before dropping a supportive hand on the younger man's shoulder. The gesture had the required calming effect but there was more behind it than lead agent to subordinate... Mahoney was now convinced that a relationship akin to a paternal bond existed between these two men and he smiled menacingly as the seed to his most audacious plan was planted._

END FLASHBACK

Given his current location, Mahoney had little choice but to place the logistics of his plan entirely in the hands of his trusted attorney and his son James who, himself, was only half a step ahead of the law. Now, his freedom was hanging in the balance and completely dependent on the actions of his son...and the reactions of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Tony was still sleeping deeply when his slumber was disturbed by the sound of someone repeatedly calling his name. He turned his head away, desperately trying to ignore it. The voice became more insistent and was joined by an intermittent nudge to his shoulder. He cracked open one eye and saw McGee's worried face leaning over him.

"I'm up," Tony mumbled, still half asleep.

"Tony, it's after midnight," his partner informed him.

"Worried about turning into a pumpkin, Probie?"

"No," McGee replied. "It's Gibbs, he's not here."

Frowning deeply, Tony peered into the darkness, still waiting for his brain to reboot.

"Course not," he muttered, closing his eyes and pulling the afghan up under his chin. "Why would Gibbs be in my bed?"

McGee whipped the afghan from the bed and shook Tony's shoulder firmly.

"Tony, listen to me, Gibbs was supposed to relieve us thirty minutes ago. He's not here yet."

McGee wasn't sure if it was his words or the worry in his voice that finally penetrated Tony's sleep-addled mind but he was relieved when the older man's eyes snapped open and he sat upright.

"You call his cell?"

Bishop replied from where she'd been hovering at the door.

"We've been calling for the last twenty minutes," she said. "His cell's switched off."

Instantly alert, Tony surged from the bed and forced his feet awkwardly into his shoes. Shrugging into his shoulder holster he grabbed some extra clips and slipped them into his pocket before snatching the car keys from the dresser.

"Let's go."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

The late hour made the drive across town much faster than usual and the team arrived to find Gibbs' home in darkness. After donning their vests, Tony waited until Bishop and McGee were in position at the back of the house before giving the order to enter. With their weapons and flashlights held securely in a two-handed grip, the agents cautiously scanned each room, confirming the house was empty. The living room was in disarray with the upturned furniture and a small pool of blood by the front door evidenced the struggle that had taken place.

"Sonofabitch!" Tony swore.

"Mahoney?" McGee asked, receiving a curt nod in reply.

"Wait a minute," Bishop said. "I know I'm the newbie here but from what I've learned Gibbs has pissed off a lot of people over the years. This could be a coincidence."

"We don't believe in them," Tony and McGee answered in unison.

The silence was interrupted by an intermittent beeping that had the agents spinning around and bringing their weapons to bear. Cautiously following the sound to the dining room, they found a laptop positioned on the table.

"Tony, that's the Skype ringtone," McGee said. "Someone's calling."

"Answer it," Tony told him.

Tony's gut twisted painfully in anticipation as McGee slipped on a latex glove and pressed the answer button. Almost instantly the sneering smile of James Mahoney materialized on the screen.

"You didn't expect me to forget about you, did you DiNozzo?"

Tony winced.

"I'm not that lucky," Tony answered glibly. His expression hardened and his jaw clenched tightly. "Where's Gibbs?"

Mahoney smiled smugly.

"We're getting acquainted," he replied.

"Let him go, Mahoney. It's me you want, not him."

"That's true...but you're the only one who can get my father released."

"Then we gotta problem," Tony said, "cause I don't have that kind of authority."

Mahoney bared his teeth again, this time in a predatory smile.

"Maybe you need motivation."

He stepped away from the camera, leaving the agents with the image of an empty chair in a large room. He returned moments, roughly manhandling a handcuffed Gibbs into the chair. Bishop gasped involuntarily as she saw the former Marine's badly beaten face. Swelling had already closed his left eye, stretching the badly discoloured skin tightly across his eye socket. Purple and black contusions contrasted sharply against his blanched skin and a thin streak of blood dribbled down his chin from a badly split lip. But it was the sight of the collar bomb device hanging around Gibbs' neck that sent icy tendrils of fear spearing into his agents' hearts.

"Tony-" McGee uttered.

"I see it," Tony replied sharply.

"I want my father released, DiNozzo," Mahoney demanded. "or I'll mail your boss back to you in a shoebox."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**


	2. Chapter 2

**Impasse**

**Chapter Two**

Tony's eyes locked unto his boss' battered face. Violently he squelched his anxiousness and concentrated on keeping his voice calm and steady.

"You okay, Boss?" he asked.

An expression of bemusement, washed over the former Marine's bruised face and a hint of drollery coloured his voice.

"I look okay to you, DiNozzo?"

"Well…fashion's never been your thing, Boss, but I gotta tell ya...as accessories go, the collar's a little kitsch."

The former Marine's cut and swollen lips quirked in a crooked grin as the familiar banter brought fleeting comfort to them both.

James Mahoney stepped back into camera range, partially blocking Gibbs from his agents' view. Mahoney Junior was leaner than his father, with a chiseled jaw accented by a deep cleft. With his sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, he reminded Tony of Dudley Doright's life-sized evil twin.

"I want my father released from custody," Mahoney demanded.

"And I want my father to stop chasing everything in a skirt but, seriously man, I don't see either of us getting our wish anytime soon," Tony replied, his casual tone belying the torrent of emotions raging within.

Mahoney spun quickly toward the former Marine, grabbed a fistful of Gibbs' jacket and pulled him to his feet where he swayed unsteadily.

"Maybe you need a demonstration of what this collar can do," he seethed.

"Only if you're the one wearing it," Tony uttered through tightly clenched teeth.

The other man's face flushed red with fury before he dragged Gibbs to the back of the large room. Tony held his breath and, for a sickening moment, thought he had signed his boss' death warrant as Mahoney attached the handcuffs to a large stack of packing crates and withdrew a small cylindrical remote from his pocket.

Returning to the laptop, Mahoney turned the angle of the camera away from Gibbs and toward the far side of the building where it centred on a person sitting in a chair. Simultaneously, the agents leaned forward, straining their eyes to focus and then breathed a selective sigh of relief when they realized the object of their concern was a mannequin wearing an identical collar bomb around its neck.

Pausing momentarily for dramatic effect, Mahoney pressed the red button on the remote and the collar bomb exploded, scattering pieces of the mannequin's head and upper body in every direction. Unable to tear their eyes away, the agents stared at the smoldering remains.

"Oh my God," Bishop whispered.

The warehouse appeared to lurch violently to one side as Mahoney re-positioned the laptop again and wrestled Gibbs back in front of the camera.

"Listen to me, man," Tony started. "The US government won't be blackmailed into releasing your father or anyone else. Let Gibbs go before anyone else gets hurt."

"You want him back? Release my father."

Tony huffed out a laugh.

"I told you; I don't _have_ that kind of authority," Tony replied, his levels of frustration kicking up several notches.

"You got my father arrested…now get him released."

"Your father was arrested because he killed a Marine."

"_Just do it!_" he bellowed, reaching his hand across the table toward another small remote.

"No, wait!" Tony replied desperately. He forced himself to breathe deeply and continued in a voice so calm he surprised himself. "Don't do this, James. You kill Gibbs and every law enforcement agency in the country will come looking for you. Let him go, man; walk away."

A thick silence hung in the air while Mahoney appeared to consider Tony's words.

"You've got 24 hours to free my father," he said finally.

"That's not enough time!" Tony told him.

"That's all the time you got."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said impassively.

"Boss?"

"Enough. Just get this done."

"Boss, I-"

"_You deaf, DiNozzo?" _the lead agent barked._"Do your damned job! Get this done!"_

The harsh tone cracked like a whip and from his peripheral vision Tony noticed Bishop flinch in surprise. The two senior agents silently communicated in a long meaningful glance until Tony looked away, attempting to marshal the emotions churning inside him. After a long moment's silence, he met and resolutely held his boss' gaze, giving a barely noticeable nod in reply.

"We clear?" the lead agent asked sharply.

"Crystal," Tony replied, not breaking eye contact.

Mahoney's face came back into view, distorted by its close proximity to the camera.

"The exchange gets done quietly – just you and my father," he demanded. "If I see one cop or hear a whisper from the media, I'll send you that shoe box. Keep that Skype account open, I'll contact you for an update in 12 hours."

The screen faded to black and several seconds passed before Tony turned to McGee.

"Can you trace the call?"

"I can use the internal networking maintenance commands within windows to track the IP address but I don't have my computer."

"Does Gibbs have a computer here?" Ellis asked.

"Not from this century," McGee quipped before turning back to Tony. "I could use this one but it's evidence."

"Do it anyway," Tony answered. "Let me when you've got something."

Turning quickly, Tony crossed the room and exited the door to Gibbs' back patio.

"Should I go after him?" Bishop asked.

"He's fine," McGee replied, quickly typing commands into the laptop.

"But...where's he going?"

"He'll be back," he assured her. "Just give him a minute."

"Do you think SecNav will agree to release Sean Mahoney?" Bishop asked.

"Unlikely," McGee replied curtly. Bishop's interruptions weren't helping but he understood that the probationary agent was well out of her comfort zone.

Ellie paced nervously behind him, her dark eyebrows knitted in a frown. She hoped like hell she was wrong in her assumption but, tentatively, she asked the question.

"So…when Gibbs told Tony to do his job, he meant..."

"He meant, don't release Mahoney under any circumstances…no matter what happens," he replied.

"But James Mahoney will kill him."

"He knows that," McGee said grimly. "So does Tony."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Outside on Gibbs' back landing, Tony coughed as the cold night air filled his lungs. Struggling for control, he crossed his arms over his chest in a self-hug and squatted on his haunches.

"I shoulda seen this coming," he whispered, his voice dripping with self-loathing.

He'd just spent eight long weeks as James Mahoney's shadow. He knew the man was a loose cannon and capable of anything when his back was to the wall. Despite Tony's earlier assertions, the former detective knew Mahoney would target him to avenge his father's arrest. In fact, if he was totally honest, a part of him _hoped_ Mahoney would do just that. The guilt he felt over Billy Simmons' murder still burned fiercely in his gut and he welcomed any chance to even the score. _He_ had been the one to back Mahoney into a corner…and now Gibbs was paying the price. He recalled the former Marine's last order…

'_Do your damn job, get this done!'_

Gibbs knew there was little chance of SecNav agreeing to a prisoner exchange. It was a fact of life that all law enforcement officers knew and accepted. But when Tony's eyes locked with his boss' in silent communication, he knew that Gibbs was ready to accept his fate...no matter what.

"Not gonna happen, Boss," Tony vowed. "Not on my watch."

The senior field agent shook his head to clear his mind of any distractions; he didn't have time for hindsight or second guessing. He needed to focus his attention solely on locating and freeing his boss.

He had neither the time nor the inclination to endure SecNav's rhetoric on the political and social ramifications of the government's prisoner exchange policy. Right now, Tony didn't give a damn. As far as he was concerned, there was only one person qualified to champion that issue on Gibbs' behalf. He withdrew his cell from his pocket and dialed the number, waiting impatiently until the call was answer.

"Director Vance? It's DiNozzo...we have a situation."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

With Director Vance arranging an emergency meeting with SecNav, Tony re-entered Gibbs' living room, tugging on a pair of latex gloves.

"Talk to me Probie," he said, then waved both hands about frantically as both McGee and Bishop started speaking simultaneously. "Uh, uh! One Probie at a time."

"Well, technically, Tony, I haven't been a probationary agent for years," McGee replied without looking up from the keyboard.

"And yet, you answered," the senior field agent responded with a forced grin.

"Old habits die hard," the IT Specialist explained. "I'm getting close. We should have an IP address in a few minutes."

"Stay on it, Tim," Tony said before turning to see Bishop examining the lock of Gibbs' front door.

"There's no sign of forced entry," she told him.

"There won't be. He never locks the damn door."

Frowning at the response, Bishop led Tony to where she'd bagged and tagged a baseball bat.

"I found this and some muddy footprints over there," she said. "Looks like someone was waiting behind the door. The bat has blood and hair on it and the barrel's cracked."

Tony examined the bat, feeling his gut tighten at the sight of his team leader's blood.

"Gibbs is gonna be pissed," he muttered.

"You mean because he got jumped?"

"Nope...this was his favourite bat."

The senior agent's response was glib but Ellie could see the underlying anguish on his face.

"I got it, Tony!" McGee called. "Warehouse complex in Hyattsville."

"Nice work, McGee. Grab the evidence and let's go," Tony replied as he jogged from the house.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

As the agents suspected, by the time they arrived at the large industrial estate, the warehouse was deserted and James Mahoney and Gibbs were long gone. Methodically, they cleared the building; Tony placing a call to Ducky when they located the body of a man in one of the small offices at the front of the warehouse.

They processed the crime scene, gathering the scattered remnants of the collar bomb, locating a discarded remote and the laptop Mahoney had used and left on the table. Every item was bagged and tagged for forensic analysis.

Tony removed his cell from the pocket of his jacket and took a deep breath to steel himself - this was not going to be easy. He dialled Abby's number and broke the news of Gibbs' abduction, his heart twisting as he heard the distress in her voice. But the forensic specialist dug deep and held herself in check, promising to get back to the Navy Yard and as soon as she possibly could.

A heavy silence settled upon them as McGee guided the agency vehicle back toward the office. In the back seat, Ellie Bishop glanced out of the window. It was still dark though a faint lightening on the horizon warned of the approaching sunrise. Her eyes flicked to the front passenger seat where Tony appeared lost in his thoughts. Lines of tiredness creased the skin around his eyes and he was as sombre as she had ever seen him. The strident sound of a ringtone startled them all and Tony snatched up his cell, impatiently.

"DiNozzo."

His body stiffened and his jaw tensed as he grunted a curt reply and tossed his cell onto the seat beside him.

"That was Vance," he said without making eye contact. "SecNav won't approve Mahoney's release. We've got twenty-two hours to solve this case or Gibbs is dead."

**-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**

Familiar landmarks blurred by with the speed and urgency of their journey as the agency vehicle neared the turn-off to the Navy Yard. The oppressive silence in the car tore at McGee's nerves and he flicked his eyes quickly toward the passenger seat where his partner sat uncharacteristically still and quiet.

The sleep Tony had managed earlier in the evening had barely made a difference and his pallor clashed starkly with the dark shadows under his eyes. The normally genial expression was sombre and his hands were fisted so tightly that McGee was almost expecting to hear the pop of dislocating knuckles. Adjusting his line of vision, Tim caught Bishop's concerned eyes in the rear view mirror and was grateful that the newest team member was smart enough not to ask questions to which they had no answers. He gave a small nod of his head to reassure her.

Arriving at the Navy Yard, McGee popped the trunk and removed the box of evidence before noticing that Tony had loped across the parking lot and was already enterrng the building. Thrusting the box into Bishop's arms, he hurried after the senior agent.

"Check the evidence in," he called over his shoulder. "We'll meet you in the bullpen."

"By myself?" the perplexed probationary agent called. "Wait, McGee!"

Ellie groaned under the weight of the evidence box as she watched McGee disappear into the building. Straightening her shoulders, she reminded herself that this was just another step in her journey to becoming an NCIS agent. Although her learning curve was steep, she was smart and determined enough to complete her training and find her own place as a valued member of the MCRT.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

The erratic side to side movement and the piercing screech of tyres seeking traction drew Gibbs slowly back to awareness. He cracked open his uninjured eye and realized he was in the back of a van travelling at high speed. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, bracing himself against the motion was difficult. He tried to raise his body but the nauseating sensation was too great. Determined to pinpoint his location, he lifted his head again but the rear windows had been blackened and the blaring radio made it impossible to hear anything else. As the fog slowly lifted from his brain, he became aware that the collar bomb was still secured around his neck and fragmented memories came crashing back.

_Mahoney._

Forcing himself to concentrate, the former Marine tried to make sense of his disjointed recollections and realized that they centred on his senior field agent. Since returning from Philadelphia, Gibbs had sensed a troubling undercurrent in Tony's demeanour, something the younger man had worked hard to disguise. Generally, DiNozzo was a man who was slow to anger and quick to let go and move on – he was the easy-going, flaky yin to Gibbs' high and tight yang. But his agent had been gutted by the murder of his CI and Gibbs knew that if James Mahoney came looking for revenge, he'd see a side of DiNozzo very few knew existed. He'd sent McGee and Bishop to watch Tony's six, hoping that - if Mahoney came after the former detective - cooler heads would prevail.

Ignoring the pounding of his temples, Gibbs recalled leaving the Navy yard and heading home; he'd left just enough time to shower and eat before he had to relieve McGee and Bishop at Tony's apartment. Parking in the driveway, he entered through the front door and reached for the light switch when movement in the darkness caused his heart to skip a beat. As he moved to draw his weapon, something impacted brutally against his head and his world exploded into nothingness.

His memory of the next few hours was vague and clouded and the more he tried to recall what had happened, the more it increased the intensity of his headache. He had no recollection of arriving at the warehouse but woke to find the collar bomb already around his neck. He'd watched as Mahoney placed another bomb around the neck of a mannequin and, after speaking online with his agents, the man triggered an explosion that shattered the windows and sprayed the area with deadly shrapnel. But by far, the most painful memory was a fleeting image on the laptop screen - the stricken faces of his young teammates.

He took a moment to think about his team. The addition of Bishop's brilliant analytic mind had complimented McGee's IT expertise and the "old school" investigative methods used so successfully by him and Tony…but in this current situation, DiNozzo was the wildcard. He was street smart and intuitive and could read a situation like no one he'd ever met. The former detective would risk everything to secure Gibbs' release...including his own life, but as resourceful and unconventional as Tony was, even he couldn't change a United States government mandate on prisoner exchange.

Gibbs was certain that his team would do their utmost to find him before the deadline but if fate was against him and the collar bomb was detonated, he would make damn sure that he took James Mahoney with him.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Rushing through security, McGee took the stairs two at a time and burst through the stairwell door into the operations room. Seeing no sign of Tony, he cast his eyes upward to the mezzanine level and spotted the senior field agent striding purposefully toward the director's office.

Tony was usually hard to read; often hiding his feelings and sometimes his intellect, behind an apathetic and easy-going manner. But the rigidity of the senior agent's posture told him that Tony's hard fought restraint was hanging by a thread. McGee shook his head at the irony - the one man capable of pulling an exhausted and pissed off Tony back into line was the man whose disappearance was causing his distress.

An attractive blonde secretary passed Tony in the hall and flashed a brilliant smile in his direction. But it was the total lack of acknowledgement from the senior field agent that nudged McGee's concern into overdrive.

"This is not good," he muttered under his breath before haring off in pursuit.

**-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**

Knocking once on the door, Tony entered the director's office without waiting for an invitation. Holding the phone to his ear, Vance held up a hand to silence the agent before he got started.

"Of course, Madam Secretary," he said. "I give you my word that JAG will have the report within the hour...I understand...thank you for your time, Ma'am."

The director placed the receiver in its cradle as McGee entered the office and took his place at Tony's side.

"Has SecNav's agreed to the prisoner exchange?" Tony asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid that's out of the question. She's attending a budget meeting with the appropriations committee later this morning and needs Sean Mahoney's arrest report within the hour."

Tony's bark of sarcastic laughter echoed loudly in the quiet office.

"We have an agent with a bomb around his neck and she's worried about balancing the agency cheque book?" he asked incredulously. "Nice to know she has her priorities in order."

Vance shot the agent a withering look until McGee intervened.

"Why would SecNav need an arrest report for a budget meeting?" the IT Specialist asked.

"The committee wants to reduce our operating budget," Vance explained. "SecNav's hoping to educate them about the costs involved in running these lengthy operations."

"What's the cost of a agent's life these days?" Tony asked curtly before feeling the sharp pain of McGee's elbow to his ribs.

Although DiNozzo was dangerously close to insubordination, Vance knew how close these men were to their team leader and he took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

"Report," he instructed succinctly.

Forcing his voice into a facade of professional detachment, Tony brought the director up to date with the investigation. Vance listened intently, his sharp mind processing the facts.

"Mahoney has a beef with you," Vance said to DiNozzo. "Without your testimony we have no case. So why weren't you the target?"

McGee and Tony exchanged a meaningful glance.

"Director," McGee started hesitantly. "We think he knew Tony was in protective custody. We think that's why he targeted Gibbs."

"How would he know that, unless..." Vance's dark eyes widened with realization. "You think we have a mole?"

"Maybe," Tony shrugged. "It could have been a lucky guess but with Gibbs' life at stake, we need to consider the possibility that someone here sold us out."

Vance sighed audibly and ran his hand over his jaw. Much as he hated the thought of any of his agents had been compromised, he couldn't take the chance.

"DiNozzo, you have point on this investigation. News of Gibbs' abduction has already spread around the agency but do whatever it takes to keep a lid on the investigation."

"Yes, Sir," Tony replied.

"Whatever resources you need, let me know."

Tony nodded his head in agreement before straightening his shoulders and clearing his throat.

"May I speak freely, Director?" he asked formally.

For a moment, Vance thought about saying no but he nodded. "Go on."

"We have less than 20 hours to find Gibbs," Tony said. "You need to get SecNav to agree to the prisoner exchange, if only to buy us more time."

"The Secretary of the Navy will not breach a government mandate on prisoner exchange because _I_ say so," Vance stated, quickly running out of patience.

"Then go over her head. Take this to SecDef," Tony insisted not bothering to hide the depth of his anger and frustration. "You owe it to Gibbs. Hell, we _all_ owe it to Gibbs."

"Let me get this right," Vance growled between tightly clenched teeth. "You want me to disregard the chain of command and go directly to the Secretary of Defence. Is that what you want, DiNozzo?"

Tony's voice was calm but his eyes burned brightly with barely restrained anger.

"What I want, Director, is for the brass to be more concerned with the lives of their agents than with budget cuts and toeing the party line."

Vance shot angrily to his feet; his chair tilting dangerously before righting itself.

"_You think I'm toeing the party line, DiNozzo?"_he seethed. "_You're damned right I am!__I've worked too hard and lost too much to do things any other way. I have my orders...there will be no prisoner exchange. Officially, my hands are tied. If you're worried about the ticking clock, DiNozzo, I suggest stop wasting time telling me how to do my job and start doing your own!"_

Vance's facial nerves twitched as he glared at his agent with an almost incandescent fury. They had reached an impasse and were momentarily locked in a battle of wills. Interminable seconds passed before McGee broke the tension between them.

"Tony," he said quietly, "Come on, man, this isn't helping Gibbs."

Releasing a deep breath with an audible hiss, Tony nodded and turned for the door when Vance's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"DiNozzo? I'll expect that arrest report on my desk within the hour."

The acting lead agent shot the director a look that conveyed exactly what he thought of that order and then strode from the office allowing the door to slam behind him.

McGee cleared his throat nervously.

"If that's all, Director, I'll...um..." he pointed to the door, wanting to be anywhere else.

"You're excused," the director said before adding. "McGee?"

"Sir?"

"Keep me informed."

"Yes, Sir," the agent said as he hastily left the office to find his acting lead agent.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

Despite hearing McGee call his name, Tony let the elevator door close before his partner arrived. He needed a moment to calm himself without the scrutiny of his well-meaning teammates.

Waiting until the car moved between floors, he flicked the emergency stop button with more force than was necessary and thumped the side of his fist into the wall. The muscles along his jaw line contracted as he tried to swallow the frustration that threatened to choke him.

"Think, DiNozzo, think!" he snapped.

After a few deep breaths the tension eased its vice-like grip on his chest and, exhausted, he slumped against the wall and stared at the fist-size indentation.

Tony not only understood the government's position on prisoner exchange but as a law enforcement officer, he agreed with it. The sharp reality of the situation was that Gibbs' life was on the line...his boss, his mentor and his friend. No one in the world had a bigger influence on his career or his life and no one had ever had such unwavering faith in him. There had to be something more he could do.

"WWGD?" he asked himself as he paced the confined area. "What would Gibbs do?"

He stilled suddenly and cocked his head slightly as if hearing the older man's words.

'_Doesn't matter what I'd do...what would DiNozzo do?'_

"That's just it, Boss, I don't know," Tony argued quietly.

_"You gotta team to lead and an investigation to run. Whatever you're feeling…bury it until this is over."_

"That's kinda easy for you to say, Boss, you've only got a bomb hanging around your neck.," Tony said, still pacing. "Me? I got just over nineteen hours to find you before the deadline. Meanwhile, SecNav's having tea with the bean counters and Vance has his head stuck so far up SecNav's...ahhh!"

He rubbed the back of his head, easing the pain from a stinging head slap that was as well-placed as it was imagined.

_"Follow your gut, Tony."_

He stood stock still, replaying the words over and over in his mind. Straightening his shoulders, he expelled his self-doubt and indecision in an audible breath. Gibbs was counting on him to do his job and lead the team. He could do this. He _would_ do this.

"Hold on, Boss," he said confidently and flicked the switch to set the elevator in motion. "I'm coming for you."

**-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Impasse**

**Chapter 3**

Already back at his desk, McGee had spent the last five minutes glancing surreptitiously at the closed elevator doors and avoiding Bishop's questions concerning Tony's whereabouts. Rarely had he seen DiNozzo so rattled. He knew, better than anyone, how close the ex-cop and the former Marine were and how Gibbs' abduction was tearing Tony up inside. But if they were to stand any chance of finding their team leader before the deadline, they needed Tony focused and on his game.

He launched to his feet at the ding of the elevator and watched as Tony walked confidently into the bullpen, all visible signs of his previous anxiety were gone. Raising his eyebrows in silent query, he was relieved when Tony nodded his reassurance.

"Abby's just arrived," McGee told him. "She's started processing the evidence from the crime scene."

Glancing casually around the operations room, Tony ensured no one was within earshot before turning to address his partners.

"You identified our John Doe?"

Reaching for the plasma screen remote, Bishop flinched when Tony placed his hand on her arm and shook his head.

"Until we know whether we have a leak, this is for our eyes only," he said.

Signalling for McGee to move closer, both men leaned in as Bishop displayed the photo of the dead man on her computer monitor.

"Joseph Pangetti, aged thirty-six," she replied quietly. "He spent three years with the US Army in Afghanistan as an explosive ordnance disposal technician."

"Looks like we found our bomb maker," McGee remarked before continuing the report. "He served with distinction and reached the rank of full lieutenant but had to be shipped Stateside when an incident left him suffering from severe PTSD."

"What happened?" Tony asked.

Ellie winced sympathetically.

"A coalition operation went horribly wrong and resulted in the death of four US soldiers and thirteen Kuwaiti civilians," she said. "The Army cleared Pangetti of any negligence but he never got over it. According to his file, when he returned home he couldn't hold a job and developed an addiction to heroin."

"Explosives and heroin," McGee added. "The guy had a death wish."

"He have a record?" Tony asked.

McGee nodded and turned to a printout of Pangetti's criminal record.

"Four years ago, he was charged with assault and possession of illegal narcotics," he replied. "Due to his excellent military record, his attorney had the sentence cut from five years to two. He completed rehab in prison and according to his parole officer, he's stayed clean ever since."

"He just got real dirty," Tony remarked.

DiNozzo's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Pangetti's photo and cast his mind back to the eight weeks he spent undercover with the Mahoneys. He was as sure as he could be that there was never any mention of Pangetti's name or, for that matter, any mention of explosives. Had he missed something? He cursed under his breath as his frustration level rose yet another notch. The heavy silence grew and McGee and Bishop exchanged a concerned look.

"Tony?" McGee nudged tentatively. "You okay?"

Shoving his frustration aside, the acting lead agent waved away their concern with a weak smile and addressed Bishop.

"Run a background on the owners of the warehouse. See if there's any connection to Pangetti or the Mahoneys? Then review James Mahoney's profile. We know he was born and raised in Baltimore but see if he has any relatives or known associates here. I wanna know anywhere you think he may have taken Gibbs...a friend's cabin, uncle's boat shed…any place he'd feel safe enough to hole up."

"Got it," Bishop nodded emphatically, the cogs already turning in her astute mind.

Taking the thick file from her filing cabinet and several candy bars from her drawer, she moved to the vacant area between her and Gibbs' desks and sat crossed-legged on the floor to work.

"Not here," Tony said.

Bishop looked up in confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"We'll work from Abby's lab, it's more private," he told her. "Besides, Abby'll be upset about Gibbs. I want someone with her."

Bishop climbed to her feet.

"Are you sure I'm the right one to do that?" she asked.

"You got a problem taking instructions, _Probie?_" Tony replied irritably.

"No, no problem…" she hesitated before adding, "it's just, well, you said it yourself, Abby's probably very upset and, well, you both know her better than I do. I'm just wondering whether I'm the best person to offer her support."

"You'll be fine," Tony said, softening his tone.

"Like Tony said, just stay with her in case, you know, she needs you," McGee added.

"And stay out of her way if she doesn't," Tony warned.

"Don't touch any of her equipment," the IT Specialist advised.

"Or press any buttons," the senior field agent said.

Bishop's head turned comically from one to the other like she was watching an invisible metronome.

"Don't move anything in her work area," McGee offered.

"And don't turn her music off...even if your ears bleed."

"If you make a mess, you clean it up."

"Hands off the farting hippo," Tony cautioned.

"And whatever you do…don't drink the Caf-pow," McGee said, "you'll be bouncing off the walls for a week."

Seeing the reticence on the young woman's face, McGee added, "I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Unless you do any of the above, in which case…you're toast," Tony remarked. "Now go."

Frowning, Bishop hugged the file to her chest and walked slowly from the bullpen like she was headed to the gallows.

"I'll…I'll be in the lab if you need me," she said, over her shoulder.

Tony and McGee waited for her to leave before exchanging a satisfied grin.

"So, McTease, it seems you have a natural flair for probie-hazing," Tony observed.

"I had a good teacher."

"You learned well, grasshopper," he said as the grin disappeared from his face and he was back to business. "Check the laptop we found at Gibbs' house. One thing I know for certain is that, when it comes to computers, James Mahoney is no McGeek."

"You think Mahoney is working with someone?"

"Until we know for sure that he's not, nothing is off the table," Tony replied. "Call my cell if you get something."

Turning on his heel, Tony strode quickly toward the elevator and McGee fell into line on his heels.

"Wait, where are you going?" McGee asked.

"I'll be back."

Reaching out, the younger man grabbed Tony by the arm and halted his progress.

"I haven't got time for this, Tim," the acting lead agent snapped. "neither does Gibbs."

"Whatever you're planning, I'm in…but you gotta talk to me, Tony…_trust me!"_

McGee watched as Tony's expression closed-down. He swallowed the curse of frustration and looked the older man directly in the eyes.

"Come on, man, talk to me...don't shut me out."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

Several hours later, Ducky was reviewing his latest autopsy report when the sound of a quiet knock on his office door caught his attention.

"Eleanor!" he greeted cordially, "What a delightful surprise! To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

The ME frowned when Ellie remained standing in his doorway, shifting her weight anxiously from foot to foot.

"Eleanor?"

"Um, Ducky," she began tentatively. "Would you have a few moments to talk?"

"Of course, my dear. Please, come in."

Always the gentleman, Ducky rounded the desk and held the back of the visitor's chair until the young woman was seated.

"Would you join me in a cup of freshly brewed tea?" he asked.

"No thank you, Ducky. I really need to get back to Abby," she replied, nervously checking her watch. "I'm supposed to be on a Caf-Pow run."

"Ah...I understand," he chuckled. "Tell me, how can I be of assistance?"

Bishop hesitated. From the moment she had seen video footage of Gibbs, badly beaten and with a collar bomb secured around his neck, a question had been simmering in the back of her mind. She had refrained from asking her teammates in case she caused them further distress but as the deadline drew closer, she needed an answer. She looked into the elderly man's kind blue eyes, took a deep breath and gave voice to her concern.

"Ducky, I don't understand why Mahoney chose a bomb. I mean...why would he go to that trouble?" she asked. "We know he has a gun, if he wanted to threaten or even kill Gibbs, why not just use the gun?"

The ME studied Ellie's young face; her large hazel eyes were clouded with confusion. Ellie Bishop had been an NSA Analyst and was intelligent and astute but Ducky knew there was a world of difference between hypothesizing over the possible actions of criminals and terrorists and witnessing, first hand, the wanton brutality inflicted on someone you know. Removing his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Prior to Anthony's undercover assignment, Jethro asked me to perform a psychological profile on the Mahoneys. It is my belief that they are driven by a deep-seeded desire for revenge. Their sole intent is to inflict as much trauma and suffering as possible," he continued with a barely controlled calmness. " Although it is Jethro who is currently in physical danger, it is Anthony who is the focus of this heinous act."

"Tony infiltrated their drug consortium and obtained the evidence against them," Ellie stated. "So why not just go after Tony?"

"Because, as you will discover, Eleanor, Anthony and Jethro have a very strong bond; a closeness that goes well beyond that of team leader and subordinate. That young man would lay down his own life rather than see any harm come to Jethro. If the worse was to happen, the overwhelming guilt and self-condemnation Anthony would feel, would slowly destroy him."

Ellie nodded her head in understanding and met the doctor's gaze.

"Ducky? Do you think they're bluffing? I mean, would James Mahoney _really_ kill Gibbs to hurt Tony?"

The ME could no longer withhold the bitterness from his voice.

"In a veritable heartbeat, my dear."

**-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**

Attorney at law, Victor Ambrose was seated in an NCIS interview room with his briefcase open on the table beside him. Greying at the temples, he fussed with a torn cuticle and glanced impatiently at the closed door waiting for his client, Sean Mahoney, to be escorted from the holding cells.

When the door finally opened, Mahoney was led inside and took a seat directly opposite. His prominent chin was covered in stubble and his hair and clothes were disheveled but, given his circumstances, he looked none the worse for his time in custody. He waited for the agent to leave the room before leaning slightly forward and speaking in a hushed voice.

"Well?"

"The Secretary of the Navy won't authorize a prisoner exchange," Marshall replied, as Mahoney cursed under his breath. "We knew it was a long shot. Some policies are not negotiable...even when they involve long-serving federal agents and Silver Star recipients."

Mahoney leaned back, combing his large fingers anxiously through his hair. His eyes narrowed in suspicion when he recognized the look on his attorney's face.

"Why are you so calm?" he hissed. "I'm facing life in a federal penitentiary!"

A conceited-smile formed on the other man's well-tanned face.

"Maybe not...let's just say there's been a _surprising_ development," Ambrose replied vaguely. "I'll give you the details later. I'm on my way to a meeting with the JAG prosecutor. All being well, I should have you out of here in a few hours."

"And the murder charge?"

"Will be a thing of the past; just like DiNozzo's career in law enforcement."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

At a workstation in the forensics lab, McGee examined the information scrolling onto the computer monitor; occasionally glancing up as Abby's frantic pacing threatened to wear a path into the floor.

"This is _so_ not right," she said for the hundredth time. "Gibbs has risked his life for this agency and for this country, like, a gazillion times and this is how they repay him?"

Sitting on the floor, a safe distance from Abby's platform boots, Bishop cleared her throat quietly.

"Um, Abby? I understand you're upset, but-"

"Upset? Of course I'm upset! This is Gibbs! He's, like, the best agent NCIS has ever had!_"_she said, stopping to take a huge gulp of Caf-Pow. "I'm just saying that if positions were reversed and the director had been kidnapped, Gibbs would stop at nothing to find him and bring him home."

"It's not the director's fault, Abs," McGee replied. "If US government agencies bowed to the demands of terrorists and kidnappers, they'd open a can of worms that could never be closed again."

Abby pouted, knowing the truth of McGee's words.

"Then where's Tony?" she asked irritably. "Why isn't he down here asking me what I've got and being all...all...Gibbs-like?"

"I told you, Abs," McGee replied, not meeting her eyes. "The director needed Tony's arrest report right away."

Bishop climbed to her feet and stood by Abby's side.

"He should have finished his report by now," she replied. "It's been nearly three hours."

McGee squirmed slightly under the scrutiny of the two women before turning his attention back to his computer screen.

"Well...er...maybe he went to see Ducky first," he stammered.

The women exchanged another suspicious glance.

"I just spoke to Ducky," Bishop said. "Tony wasn't with him."

"Did I say Ducky?" he replied, still typing furiously on his laptop. "Well...of course I meant...I meant..."

He threw out a hand quickly to keep from toppling over as Abby and Bishop spun his chair around to face them.

"Okay, Timmy, spill," Abby instructed.

"Wh-what?" he faltered.

"You're hiding something and we want to know what it is," Abby continued persistently.

"It's nothing...I mean, I'm not!" he laughed nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

"He's lying," Abby told Bishop.

"Really?" she asked. "How do you know?"

"His ears go red whenever he lies. Never fails."

"Good to know," Ellie said, storing the information away for later use.

"That's not true," McGee objected.

"Look for yourself," Abby replied, shoving a mirror into his hand. "If those ears get any redder, they'll burst into flames. Now, out with it...where is Tony?"

"Right here," Tony said as he walked through the door behind them.

"Tony!" Abby exclaimed. Hurrying to his side, she wrapped the agent in a hug and frowned when she felt the bulge of his Sig Sauer under his jacket. "Is something wrong? I mean, I know there's something wrong but, like, something else? You haven't secured your side arm?"

"I didn't stop at my desk," Tony replied vaguely before changing the subject. "The clock's ticking people," he said. "McGee! Stop looking at your ears and give me something."

"I wasn't looking at my..." sighing resignedly at the mirror in his hand, McGee placed it back on the workbench and cleared his throat. "The laptop we found at the boss' home is brand new. Apart from the factory settings, Skype is the only app loaded. He created two Skype accounts...the one he used is called Irish Son and the one he assigned to you is called...er...Sewer Rat."

"Been called worse," Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "Any prints?"

"None, other than Mahoney's, and nothing in the browser history or in the hard drive that's of any use to us. I'm tracking the serial number to see where it was purchased. It's not likely that Mahoney drove across town to buy it so my guess is that he's working with someone or he got it from somewhere close to the warehouse or to where he's holed up. It's not much but it might narrow down his location."

"Stay on it," Tony said. "Also, check the cell and email records of Victor Ambrose from the time Gibbs was taken. See if he's had any contact from James Mahoney."

"You think the Mahoney's attorney played a part in Gibbs' abduction?"

"I know that James doesn't have the smarts to put something like this together by himself. Until we know who's calling the shots, everyone's a suspect."

Tony took a quick glance at his watch and silently cursed the minute hand as it casually counted down the hours to the deadline. Taking a cleansing breath, he continued.

"Bishop, what have ya got?"

"I found a connection between Pangetti and the warehouse," Ellie replied. "The warehouse belongs to a fireworks manufacturer and Pangetti worked there as their chief of pyrotechnics. The company is in the process of relocating from Hyattsville to Bowie and has cleared out most of their stock and equipment. When I informed the owner that Pangetti was a POI in our investigation, he was completely shocked. He said Pangetti's been a model employee."

"That totally fits with what I've got," Abby stated. "That is...the pyrotechnics part not the...model employee...part."

"Abs?"

Abby activated the plasma.

"Ellie gave me a sketch of the size and design of the collar bomb. From that and the gazillion bomb fragments collected from the warehouse, I was able to determine that the bomb itself is very DIY by design and construction but obviously very effective."

"That's good right?" Ellie asked. "DIY would be less intricate, easier to disarm."

"Also less stable," Tony added.

"Oh...I...er...didn't think of that."

"It appears to have a simple hinged collar attached to a metal box, containing cylinders filled with nitroglycerin and nitrocellulose and a small amount of explosive nitromine," Abby continued.

"That's double-base gun powder and C-4, right?" Ellie asked.

"I'm impressed," Abby smiled at the probationary agent.

"As a pyrotechnics expert, Pangetti would have access to the powder but where'd he get the C-4?" McGee wondered aloud.

"Abs, can you trace the C-4?" Tony asked.

"I can if the surviving particles from the explosive contain identification taggants. I'm testing for that now. Oh, and I also found fragments of a RCIED. It would normally be used to trigger a fireworks display but in this case, it was used to trigger the collar bomb."

"RCIED?" Bishop asked.

"Radio-controlled improvised explosive device," Tony replied. "The trigger is controlled by radio link or remote. McGee, any chance you can you block the signal?"

"Not without knowing exactly what I'm dealing with," McGee replied. "These things are really sensitive. If I scan for the frequency I could accidentally set it off myself. I'll contact the company and ask what radio frequencies they use. If we identify the frequency I can try to block it but I'd have to be within close proximity of the device."

"How close?"

"Depends...could be five yards could be fifty."

"No!" Abby exclaimed. "You can't go any closer than ten yards! The crime scene photos of the shrapnel indicate that these bombs have a blast radius of ten yards. Anyone closer than that will get caught in the blast and possibly killed."

She frowned irritably at the ringing phone on her desk and nodded her thanks as McGee answered it.

"Abs, you got anything on the bullet that killed Pangetti?" Tony asked. "Abs?"

"What? Oh, right. The bullet was definitely fired from the gun used to kill your CI, Billy Simmons," she said, noticing Tony wince at the still-painful mention of the name. "It was totally mangled. My guess is that Pangetti was shot at close range."

"As usual, your guess is entirely correct, Abigail," Ducky said as he entered the lab and joined the group in front of the plasma. Turning to the forensic specialist, he gestured toward the remote. "If you would be so kind, my dear?"

Abby clicked ahead to the photos of Pangetti's autopsy.

"The autopsy has confirmed that Mr Pangetti was indeed killed by a bullet fired point blank to the back of his head," the ME stated. "It traveled through the medulla, or brain stem, before shattering his mandible and exiting through the young man's cheek. Death would have been almost instantaneous."

"Mahoney killed his partner so he wouldn't talk," Bishop stated.

"Killed him...most likely, but were they partners?" Ducky asked. "I don't think so, Eleanor...at least, Mr Pangetti was not a _willing_ partner."

Several more clicks of the remote showed bruising and contusions to the man's face and a mass of deep bruising on his back.

"He was beaten?" Ellie asked.

"Unfortunately, yes, my dear. When Mr Palmer and I cleaned off the blood from his face and body, we found evidence that this man had undergone a dreadful beating before his death."

"We're missing something," Tony said. "The Mahoneys ran a drug operation. How did they even cross paths with Pangetti? There has to be a connection."

"Not that we've been able to find," Ellie added. "The background check on both men showed no known connection between Pangetti and Mahoney or the warehouse owner and Mahoney."

Unconvinced, Tony shook his head.

"James Mahoney didn't just happen upon an explosives expert who could whip him up a couple of bombs. Something or someone brought them together," Tony told them.

"Which brings us back to the assumption that Mahoney's working with someone," Bishop said.

Grim-faced, McGee hung up the phone and made his way back to the group.

"McGee," Abby whispered. "Is it Gibbs?"

"It was the director," McGee replied. "He wants to see us right away."

"He say why?" Tony asked as McGee shook his head.

"His exact words were '_I want you and DiNozzo in my office, NOW_.'"

"What about me?" Bishop asked.

"Sorry, just Tony and me."

"Oh," Bishop replied, disappointed at the sudden exclusion. "I guess I'll...I'll just stay here then."

"Keep working on those leads," Tony told them. "Deadline's in seventeen hours."

"Tony?" Abby said, chewing anxiously on her lower lip.

He drew her into a hug and she turned her head into the junction of his shoulder and neck.

"We've gotta get him back, Tony. We have to."

Unable to find the words to comfort her, Tony kissed her temple before he and McGee quickly left the lab.

Ducky turned his gaze from the doorway to the concerned faces of the two women.

"Summoned to the Director's office at a crucial time in the investigation," Ducky said. "I don't like the sound of that at all."

"Ducky," Abby replied chewing her lower lip. "I've got a really, really bad feeling about this."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**


	4. Chapter 4

**Impasse**

**Chapter Four**

**A/N:- Apologies for the uncharacteristically long delay in updating this story and for the almost insurmountable bout of writer's block that caused it. While the good news is that I am ready to continue the story, the bad news is that I have had to rewrite a little of each of the first three chapters to do so. Therefore, prior to reading this new chapter, I would recommend you restart from chapter one as there are a few amendments but, hopefully, a better story line. **

**In chapter 4, a little poetic licence has been taken with regards to Miranda Rights (no more than has been used in the show at times) and my recurring OC - Tony's old friend - JAG Officer, Commander Peter Barnes, makes an appearance. Thanks for your patience and understanding, L**

**-oo00oo-oo00oo-**

Arriving at the director's outer office, the agents observed a man seated in the waiting area. Sizing him up in one quick glance, McGee noted the man's dyed hair and eight hundred dollar suit and he quickly deduced – politician or high-price attorney. The man smiled smugly and returned to fussing with a torn cuticle.

Vance's personal assistant, Gloria, looked up from her keyboard as Tony and McGee approached.

"Hi guys," she greeted cordially. "You can go right in, they're waiting for you."

"They?" McGee uttered.

Knocking once, the agents opened the door and entered the director's office without waiting for a reply.

Rounding her desk, Gloria adjusted the shoulder strap of her handbag and smiled apologetically at the waiting man.

"I'm just going to take my break," she told him. "Can I get you something?"

Victor Ambrose raised his hand, declining her offer.

"I'm sure Director Vance will see to my needs," he smirked.

The woman left the office and Ambrose chuckled knowingly to himself.

'_This should be interesting,_' he thought, wishing he could be a fly on the wall.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Vance and JAG Commander, Peter Barnes, were seated at the conference table. Their animated discussion was halted abruptly by the agents' arrival.

"You wanted to see us, Director?" Tony asked.

Immediately sensing the tension in the room, DiNozzo's instincts kicked into high alert and his sharp eyes flicked between the two men.

"Yes I did," Vance said, his words clipped and strained. "I believe you know Commander Barnes"

"Yes, Sir," Tony replied.

Stepping forward with a grin for his old basketball buddy, Tony stopped short when the commander greeted both agents with a curt nod of his head. The former detective knew Pete too well to miss the tension and frustration in the prosecutor's every movement.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"You're damn right there's a problem," Vance replied, his dark eyes boring into his agent. "The man sitting outside my door is Sean Mahoney's personal attorney. He's claiming that his client was not read his Miranda rights when he was taken into custody."

Tony and McGee exchanged a startled glance and huffed out a laugh.

"You're kidding me, right?" the ex-cop asked incredulously.

His smile was quickly extinguished by Vance's furious expression.

"Look at my face, DiNozzo, do I look like I'm kidding?" he growled.

"Mahoney's facing life in a federal penitentiary," McGee stated. "He's grasping at straws."

Vance nodded to the commander who retrieved a file from the table and handed it to Tony.

"This is a copy of your arrest report," he said. "In it, you stated that you read Mahoney his Miranda rights immediately after he confessed to Lance Corporal Jenkins' murder and you revealed yourself as a federal agent. Is that correct?"

Tony's demeanour abruptly changed as he found himself on the defensive.

"You calling me a liar, Commander?" he asked using his friends rank rather than his name.

"I'm just trying to establish the facts as they occurred," the JAG officer countered. He turned his attention to the younger agent. "Agent McGee, according to your report, you, Special Agent Gibbs and Probationary Agent Bishop were monitoring the audio in the surveillance vehicle when Mahoney made his confession_."_

"That's correct," Tim responded.

"What happened next?"

"Well, Commander, as I stated in _my_ report, Gibbs ordered us to take the warehouse. Bishop and I led a small number of Philly PD officers to the back of the warehouse. Special Agent Gibbs took the rest and entered from the front of the building."

"The warehouse was cleared and six men were taken into custody," the Commander stated.

"That's how it happened, yes, Sir."

"How long did it take for you to secure the scene?"

McGee shrugged his shoulders.

"I can't say for sure but I'd estimate 4-5 minutes."

"So Special Agent DiNozzo was alone with Mahoney when he read him his rights?"

McGee and Tony exchanged a quizzical look.

"Special Agent McGee, please answer the question," the commander stressed. "Was Special Agent DiNozzo alone with Mahoney when he read him his rights?"

"I believe so, yes, Sir."

McGee glanced from his partner who was frowning deeply, to the director who was pacing like a caged lion.

"What does it matter if I was alone with Mahoney or whether I was with the starting line-up for the Washington Redskins?" Tony snapped irritably. "I don't know what the hell's going on here, Pete, but anything else you wanna know will have to wait until we get Gibbs back."

The agents turned quickly for the door when Vance's voice cracked like a whip.

"You have not been dismissed."

Biting down on his anger, Tony turned to face the director. He was impatient to return to the investigation.

"Due respect, Director, but Mahoney's stalling the inevitable and we don't have time for this," he said as reasonably as he could manage. "You have my report; if you have a problem with it, have someone check it against the transcripts from the wire I was wearing...problem solved."

"We already have!" Vance replied, the last vestige of his patience now evaporated. "Several times."

McGee watched the colour drain from his partners face.

"What?" Tony gasped.

"You did not advise Sean Mahoney of his Miranda rights at any stage during his arrest," Vance growled. "Tell me, DiNozzo, just how does a law enforcement officer with twenty years' experience, overlook reading a suspect his rights?"

"I…" Tony shook his head as the reality of the situation slowly sunk in. "That's not possible," he finally managed.

"I'm afraid it is," the commander added. "And as a consequence, Mahoney's attorney is citing lack of due process and calling for all charges against his client to be dropped."

"But Mahoney confessed," McGee stressed. "That has to be on the tape. We all heard it."

"Mahoney wasn't Mirandized," Pete repeated. "His confession and anything else he said or did to incriminate himself is not admissible in court. We have no case against him."

"So that's it?" McGee argued. "You're just gonna let him go?"

"There's nothing else I can do!" the JAG officer defended. "Mahoney will be released and escorted to Philadelphia where the PPD has an outstanding warrant for his arrest."

"For drug trafficking?"Tony snarled at his old friend. "He'll be released on bail before he sees the inside of a holding cell ...and when he's free, Gibbs is as good as dead!"

"I'm sure the district attorney will petition against bail."

"Come on, Pete, this is bullshit and you know it. There's gotta be more you can do!"

"We can't hold him!" the commander shot back. "Our whole case, the murder one charge, _everything_ was dependent on a clean bust. You screwed this up, Tony, not me!"

Despite his anger, Pete immediately regretted his words when he saw the look reflected in his friend's eyes. He took a moment to calm himself and turned toward the director.

"Ambrose is waiting outside," he said. "I'll tell him that his client is being transferred to Philadelphia and handle the paperwork. I trust you'll arrange the prisoner escort?"

"Consider it done," Vance said.

The commander gathered the files and his laptop and took a couple of steps toward the door before turning back to his friend.

"I'm sorry, Tony," he said with genuine feeling.

Refusing to make eye contact, Tony stared straight ahead until the commander left the room and a heavy silence, shimmering with tension, filled the air. Tony needed to think; needed time to regroup. He strode quickly to the door and was reaching for the handle when Vance's voice rang out behind him.

"Not so fast."

The director rounded his desk and stepped into DiNozzo's personal space.

"You had to do it, didn't you?" he asked. "Even after I specifically told you that I'd handle it."

McGee's double take would have been comical had the situation not been so serious. His partner's eyes blazed with mutinous anger.

"All due respect, Director, we were running out of time…and you weren't handling it," Tony said defiantly.

"So you took it upon yourself to go directly to SecDef?" Vance snarled.

"I did what had to be done to save Gibbs," Tony replied without a hint of remorse.

"How'd that work out for you?" Vance asked sarcastically, matching the rigidity of Tony's stance. "SecDef won't agree to overturning the mandate, we still have no clue where Gibbs is being held and SecNav's demanding to know why the hell I can't keep my agents in line!" Without glancing away from the former detective, Vance continued. "McGee, effective immediately, you have point on this investigation."

McGee's jaw hung open in shock before he recovered enough to reply.

"Er...Director, I really think Tony-" he stumbled.

"I'm not concerned with what you think, McGee! Can you, or can you not, handle the lead in this investigation?"

"Well…yes, Sir, but-"

"Then it's settled," he said dismissing further discussion. "Agents Reynolds and Baker just flew in from San Diego. They will escort Mahoney to Philadelphia and will temporarily join your team upon their return."

Extending his hand palm up toward Tony, the director added.

"I'll need your shield and your side arm. Consider yourself on suspension until further notice."

The muscles along Tony's jaw line contracted as he swallowed the rage that threatened to choke him.

"You can't do this," he said with a calmness he certainly didn't feel.

"I can and I will!" Vance seethed. "Do you have any idea what you've done? A three month investigation flushed down the toilet. In SecNav's meeting with the Appropriations Committee, she highlighted the Mahoney case as a shining example of the vital work performed by this agency. Now I have to tell her that one of our most experienced agents not only disregarded the chain of command but he was absent the day they taught Miranda rights at the academy!"

Tony and Vance were locked in a silent duel and after a long moment, the director spoke again.

"Your badge and your side arm…_now!"_

Tony removed his Sig from his shoulder holster. In a few short, sharp moves, he ensured the safety was on, removed the clip and pulled back the slide to ensure the weapon was empty before handing it to the director. Fishing around in his inside pocket, he removed his creds and his badge and bit his tongue to prevent from telling the man where to shove them. His eyes flicked fleetingly to McGee before he turned and abruptly left the office, slamming the door in his wake.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

The reverberation from the slamming door still hang in the air as Vance turned his attention to McGee.

"If you have something to say, McGee, say it now," he told him.

"Sir," the IT Specialist replied tentatively. "Baker and Reynolds are good agents but if we're going to get Gibbs back, we need Tony."

"DiNozzo made his choice," Vance said firmly. "And you've got better things to do than to plead his case. Advise your team and make sure-"

A commotion and loud voices interrupted the director's train of thought and he and McGee moved quickly through the door to the mezzanine level. All eyes in the Operations Room were turned upward to where Commander Barnes was battling to drag Tony away from Victor Ambrose.

"DiNozzo!" Vance barked.

McGee moved quickly to assist the JAG officer in hauling Tony away from the shaken attorney as Ambrose straightened his lapels and finger-combed his disheveled hair.

"Tony!" McGee yelled as Tony tried to break away. "Dammit, Tony, cut it out!"

Pinned with his back to the opposite wall, Tony's chest heaved and his eyes blazed with fury.

"What the hell's going on here?" Vance asked.

"This man has just accused me of knowing where James Mahoney is holding your Agent Gibbs," Ambrose replied indignantly.

Shrugging his arms free, Tony took two menacing steps toward the attorney who backed away quickly.

"You slimy sonofabitch, you know where he is and everyone here knows it!" Tony growled. "You'd wanna hope nothing happens to Gibbs because if it does-"

"Special Agent DiNozzo was just leaving," Vance interrupted sharply, his eyes meeting Tony's in a silent battle of wills. "Or should I have you escorted out."

For one terrible moment McGee thought the former detective was going hang a right hook on the director's determined chin. Tony took a deep breath to calm himself – it didn't work. His eyes bored into Vance's like lasers and almost a minute passed until he found his voice.

"That won't be necessary," he said through tightly clenched teeth.

With the eyes of his colleagues upon him, Tony strode purposefully down the stairs, grabbed his backpack from his desk and continued on to the elevator. Thumping the button with more force than was necessary, the doors opened and then closed behind him.

Victor Ambrose attempted a grin that looked more like a snarl.

"If you want to avoid a law suit, Director, I suggest you keep your agents on a shorter leash," he said.

"And if you want to be in Philadelphia by the time your client arrives, I suggest you leave, right now!" Turning on his heel, Vance walked quickly back to his office, adding over his shoulder. "McGee, keep me informed."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

McGee walked down the stairs to the Operations Room, stopping halfway to glare Gibbs-like at those still watching him from their workstations – most had the decency to return to their duties. He continued on to his desk, dropping heavily into his chair and wondering if he should break the news of Tony's suspension to Abby and Bishop or wait until the office scuttlebutt took care of that for him.

It was a decision he didn't have to ponder for long as the ding of the elevator drew his attention and Abby and Bishop burst from the car. The women jostled for position as they rounded the partition and stopped in front of McGee's desk, speaking simultaneously.

"Tell me it isn't true, McGee," Abby demanded. "Tell me Director Vance didn't suspend Tony. What was he thinking?"

"We just heard about Sean Mahoney. Are we really dropping all charges against him?" Bishop asked. "How could this happen?"

Climbing to his feet, McGee held up both hands and the women fell silent.

"I'm sorry, Abs, it's true. Tony's been suspended from duty, effective immediately," he said turning to Bishop. "All murder charges against Sean Mahoney have been dropped due to lack of due process. He's being transferred back to Philadelphia as we speak."

"No, no! This can't be happening, McGee!" Abby protested. "We need Tony here now to help us find Gibbs and I don't care what anyone says, Tony would never, _ever,_ forget to Mirandize a suspect."

"You saw him when he got back from this assignment, Abs, he was exhausted," McGee reasoned quietly. "Tony made a mistake...a very costly mistake."

"I can't believe the director would suspend him from all duties," Bishop added. "I mean, okay, it was a mistake but we need all the help we can get, right now."

"We'll have help. Agents Reynolds and Baker are escorting Mahoney to Philly. When they get back, they'll be assigned to our team. In the meantime, the best thing we can do is-"

He stopped mid sentence as Abby picked up his desk phone and began frantically dialing.

"Abs? What are you doing?"

"I'm phoning Tony. This is so totally unfair."

Pressing the button on his phone, McGee cut off the call before it connected.

"McGee!"

"Abs, listen to me. Tony needs some time to calm down; then I'm sure he'll contact us," McGee told her firmly. "Now, as I was saying, the best thing we can do is get back to work and track down those leads."

When neither woman moved he softened his expression.

"Hey, look at the bright side," he said. "At least we don't have to sit through Tony's Tommy Lee Jones/The Fugitive speech again."

Abby smiled in spite of herself.

"I like his Tommy Lee Jones speech," she replied softly.

"Yeah? Well, don't tell him I said this but…so do I," McGee admitted. "Go, I'll be right behind you."

Waiting until his colleagues left the bullpen, McGee picked up his cell and pressed the speed dial.

"_This is very Special Agent, Anthony DiNozzo. I'm not available right now. Leave your name and number after the tone."_

Cancelling the call, McGee leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. With Gibbs abducted and Tony suspended, the burden of command was an unbearable weight on his shoulders. While leading his own team was definitely a goal he hoped to someday achieve, he never envisioned it would happen this way. Taking a few deep breaths, he reminded himself of the work to be done and the people relying on him. He regained his feet and headed for Abby's lab.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

A slow smile formed on Sean Mahoney's face as the news of the dropped murder charge sank in.

"You're being transferred to Philadelphia to face drug trafficking charges," his attorney told him. "With the evidence they have against you, the prosecutor will petition for you to be remanded in custody. However, I'm fairly certain I can persuade the judge to set bail."

"Fairly certain?" Mahoney spat. "Can you or can't you get this done?"

"I can. But it comes at a cost," Ambrose replied arrogantly. "Your bail is likely to be set at a minimum of ten million dollars and they will confiscate your passport to reduce the possibility of flight risk."

"Ten million? That's half of what I have!" Mahoney launched from his chair and began to pace in the small room. "_God damn you, DiNozzo!"_

The door to the meeting room opened suddenly and an agent glanced in. After ensuring all was well, he instructed Mahoney to retake his seat and left the room.

"We can't stay in the US," he said. "The feds will never leave us alone. We'll have to set up our operation overseas."

"Relax," the attorney told him. "I have arranged for the bail money to be wired from your Cayman Islands account and our…_private_ transportation will be waiting for you and James as soon as your bail has been posted. You'll be getting a tan while the feds are still scratching their heads and wondering what the hell happened."

Mahoney's shoulders relaxed and he expelled an audible breath.

"Does James know any of this?" Mahoney asked.

Ambrose glanced at his watch.

"He's due to call in a couple of hours but I wanted to talk to you first. What do you want him to do with Gibbs?"

Mahoney's eyes hardened and his lips formed a menacing smile.

"Kill him."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

Leaving Abby and Bishop to continue following their existing leads, McGee had driven to Bowie, the new site of Tri-State Pyrotechnics, to discuss the RCIED remotes the company used to activate their fireworks. If they could give him the frequency, McGee was hopeful he could block the signal.

It was a slightly harried looking McGee who walked into the forensics lab two hours later. Passing through the sliding glass doors into Abby's inner office, he held two small items in the air.

"I got them," he said.

"The remotes?" Bishop asked looking up from her laptop.

"Yep. Tri-State uses a number of frequencies to activate their fireworks shows, but they only use two of these RCIED remotes. I can block both signals simultaneously…at least for a short time."

"How long?" Abby asked.

"Sixty seconds," McGee said grimly. "The signal can only be blocked for sixty seconds before the trigger system reboots and the device explodes."

"Sixty seconds," Abby whispered. "That's not long enough, McGee."

He looked at the concern in his colleagues eyes and added reassuringly. "It's gonna have to be. What have you got?"

"Not much, I'm afraid," Bishop replied. "I've been through Victor Ambrose's phone records and his known email accounts. I even checked to see if he had a Skype account. If he has been in touch with James Mahoney, he 's not stupid enough to use his own accounts. He must be using a burn phone."

"Figures," McGee nodded. "Abs?"

"We traced the serial number of the laptop Mahoney left at Gibbs' house to a department store in Hyattsville," Abby told him. "That's like, less than two miles from the warehouse."

"I called the store and spoke with the salesperson. She remembered that it was a cash purchase and that the guy just came in and bought the first laptops he saw, no questions about price or specifications all he wanted to know was whether the laptops had built in cameras."

"For Skyping," McGee said. "It could have been Mahoney; Tony said James doesn't know much about computers."

"It wasn't Mahoney," Abby replied pointing to the plasma as the screen came to life. "We had the store send over the CCTV footage. It's grainy and we can't make out the man's face but Sean Mahoney is six foot one, this guy's maybe five foot nine and a slighter build."

"Looks like Tony's hunch was right," Bishop remarked. "He had a feeling Mahoney wasn't working alone."

McGee continued to squint at the screen.

"He's too small to be Victor Ambrose," he said. "Abs, can you clean that up?"

"I'm trying, it's gonna take a while," Abby's green eyes suddenly filled with tears. "McGee," she whispered. "We're running out of time. We're no closer to finding Gibbs and Tony's still not answering his cell."

McGee draped an arm around her slim shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze.

"We're closer, Abs," he said. "It may not feel like it but we're definitely closer."

The shrill of McGee's phone cut off the rest of his statement and he gave Abby an apologetic smile as he answered the call.

"McGee…yes, Sir…when? We're on our way," quickly pocketing his phone McGee turned to Bishop. "Grab your gear, Ellie," he said almost Gibbs-like as he and the probationary agent headed for the door at a run.

"McGee?" Abby called anxiously. "What's happening?"

"I gotta go, Abs," he replied over his shoulder. "When I get back, I'll tell you everything…I promise."

"McGee!" Abby called again as the agent ran to catch up with Bishop.

With her hands on her hips, the forensic specialist stood staring at the doorway for several moments.

"You'll tell me _everything?_" she repeated. Tilting her head and puzzling over the agent's choice of words, she added. "Just what have you been keeping from me, Timmy?"

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Guiding the agency sedan around a sweeping curve in the road, McGee saw the flashing lights of a _Pennsylvania State Police_ unit and a nondescript paneled van parked in a small clearing on the side of the road. Parking alongside, he and Bishop climbed from the car and walked to where Agents Reynolds and Baker were speaking with the PSP officers. They flashed their credentials as one of the police officers approached them.

"NCIS," McGee announced. "Special Agents McGee and Bishop. What happened?"

"We got an anonymous tip off that two federal agents were tied up and left in those trees over there," the officer pointed to the woods about fifty yards away. "At first we thought it was a prank but we checked anyway and, sure enough, there they were."

"They were transporting a prisoner. Any sign of him?"

"No, Sir," the officer said. "We only found your two agents."

"Are they hurt?" Bishop asked.

"Only their pride, Ma'am," the officer said as the disheveled agents joined them.

"You guys okay?" McGee asked, waiting until they nodded their reply. "What the hell happened, John?"

John Reynolds sighed deeply before explaining the circumstances that led to Mahoney's escape. It had been an uneventful trip. Sean Mahoney sat quietly in the back; an air of arrogance about him despite the prison coveralls and handcuffs. As the van rounded a sweeping curve, the front left tyre blew. Assuming they were under attack, Baker had drawn his weapon while Reynolds was forced to pull the incapacitated vehicle into the clearing.

They waited in the van for several minutes with their weapons drawn as they scanned the tree lines on both sides of the road for any sign of movement. Finally, they concluded that there was no danger.

"We figured it must have been a simple blow out," Reynolds said. "We decided to change the tyre and get back on the road as soon as possible. I…I guess we let our guard down."

They removed the tyre iron and spare from the rear of the vehicle before crouching beside the damaged wheel. The agents' blood ran cold when they saw the bullet that had pierced the tyre at a high velocity before lodging in the rim. Exchanging a look of disbelief they attempted to draw their weapons when a menacing voice sounded from behind them.

"Don't even think about it," the voice said. "Hands on your heads, gentlemen. Do it now and don't get clever."

Two armed men, both wearing ski masks, had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Quickly and effectively they disarmed the agents and led them into the woods at gunpoint.

"I don't mind telling you, Tim, I thought it was all over for us," Baker added. "But they handcuffed us to a small tree and left."

"Descriptions?" McGee asked.

"Nothing helpful," Baker replied. "One was average height and build, six feet, maybe six-one; the other was shorter and a slighter build."

"The shorter one did the talking," Reynolds added. "The other guy didn't say a word."

After ensuring the agents were okay to work their own crime scene, McGee and Bishop returned to their vehicle to begin their journey back to the Navy yard.

"Do you think our masked men were James Mahoney and his associate from the department store?" Ellie asked.

"Maybe," McGee replied with a non-committal shrug.

"The descriptions of their height and builds fit."

"Those descriptions are pretty vague," McGee replied. "They could fit anyone."

Ellie narrowed her eyes suspiciously as her partner kept his attention on the road.

"That was quite a shot, don't you think?" she continued.

"Sorry?"

"The shot that took out the tyre," Ellie clarified. "The tree line was, what, fifty yards from the road? Not to mention the fact that the shooter would have to calculate the trajectory, speed of the vehicle, wind conditions. I've read James Mahoney's file from cover to cover. There was nothing about him being such a good marksman."

"Well, maybe the other guy did the shooting," McGee suggested reasonably.

Ellie shook her head in admiration and whistled softly.

"Still, that was some shot," she repeated. "I wonder how James Mahoney knew our agents would be taking that road to Philadelphia?"

"Well…" McGee started. "Maybe he-"

"And why would Mahoney care enough to call the Philly State Police and tell them where to find our agents?" Ellie asked.

McGee tugged at his tie and felt the perspiration beading at his temples. Clearing his throat, he glanced in her direction and licked his lips nervously as her hazel eyes scrutinised him.

"McGee," she said firmly. "Your ears are red."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

Arriving at their destination, two men dragged a stumbling Sean Mahoney into a room with a single bunk and no windows. Depositing him onto the bed, they ignored his protests and left the room, locking the door behind them.

Struggling out of their ski masks, the shorter man spoke.

"This better work, DiNozzo, cos I can't think of anything worse than sharing a cell with you for the next forty years."

"Relax, Toby," Tony said with a flash of his brilliant smile. "The fun's just starting."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**

A/N:- Once again, sorry for the long delay and the rewrite. I hope it was worth the wait. L


	5. Chapter 5

**Impasse**

**Chapter Five**

For the most part, the journey back to the Navy yard had been travelled in a strained and tension filled silence. McGee had summarily dismissed Bishop's questions and hypotheses, not because she was wrong but because she was zeroing in on the truth. He caught a brief glimpse of her eyes and, amidst the frustration and confusion he found there, was the certainty that he wasn't telling her the whole truth.

Lying was something Tim McGee didn't do well - when your old man was a US Navy Admiral, getting caught in a lie wasn't an option. So he'd tried to change the subject, keeping the conversation light and pretending not to notice her monosyllabic answers and occasional sighs of frustration as she crossed her arms and gazed pointedly out of the passenger-side window.

When Ellie Bishop joined the MRCT, McGee felt a strong affinity toward her almost immediately. He liked to think that he had paved the way in this agency for others like him – those who Tony described as having "big brains and little muscles." He certainly knew what it was like to have to prove your worth on a team that was already established and highly effective.

Gibbs was a Marine and Tony a cop – both men of action and both old school. It was only McGee's doggedness and an improvement in an already outstanding case closure rate that had convinced them that the team would benefit from a fulltime IT Specialist.

Having joined the team after Ziva's departure, Bishop had quickly proven that she brought her own set of skills to the table...but it was the way her mind worked that excited and intrigued McGee. As an IT Specialist, his work was based on logic, reason and fact. His conclusions were drawn systematically using whatever data was available to him. But Ellie Bishop's mind, while no-less brilliant, worked very differently. As an NSA Analyst, Bishop was a puzzle-solver. Studying random, seemingly unrelated fragments of intel and applying them to the psychological profiles of terrorists and criminals to presuppose their next likely move. That was a niche Bishop had filled more than adequately since her arrival. Sure, she was still coming to terms with the more physical aspects of the job but she possessed a keen practical sense that was essential in crime investigation and she handled the grunt work and hazing without batting an eye.

He had barely brought the agency vehicle to a stop in the assigned parking bay when Bishop exited the car and walked quickly toward the building. Sighing deeply, McGee watched her go, wishing he could tell her what he knew.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

From across the table, Tobias Fornell straddled a chair and studied the face of the younger man as he shoveled another large forkful of food into his mouth. Although he'd known DiNozzo for many years, he still found it difficult to get an accurate read on him.

"Come on, Toby, admit it," Tony said around a mouthful of sausage and eggs. "You care...this proves it."

"It's a plate of eggs, DiNozzo, not a marriage proposal," he replied, frowning distastefully as another large forkful of food disappeared. "When was the last time you ate?"

The enthusiastic chewing slowed momentarily as Tony tried to recall his last meal. He signaled defeat with a one-shouldered shrug and continued devouring his food.

"This is good," Tony nodded, "you'll make someone a fine wife someday, Fornell."

Fornell's relationship with DiNozzo was something of a conundrum. Ever since he'd sent the younger man's butt bouncing down the Beltway, Tony seemed to delight in pushing his buttons and getting under his skin. Of course, the fact that he had twice placed Tony at the top of his murder suspect list may also have added to their antagonistic alliance. Regardless, Fornell recognised a good agent when he saw one and the fact that DiNozzo had been Gibbs' right hand man for nearly 15 years spoke volumes of the man's ability.

Reaching across the table for the ketchup, Tony looked up in surprise as the bottle was snatched out of his grasp.

"Are you going to tell me what happened in there?" Fornell said, pointing towards the closed door with his chin.

"Nothing to tell," Tony replied. "I took Mahoney a sandwich, he cussed me out and then I left."

"You were in there a long time."

"What can I tell ya, Toby? The man has quite an extensive range of profanities."

Fornell studied the younger man's face, catching a fleeting glimpse of something else behind the casual facade.

"What about the leak at NCIS? Did he tell you who it is?"

Tony straightened his back and felt the muscle along his jaw line tighten.

"No," he mumbled, pushing his plate away as his appetite suddenly disappeared.

"Did you even ask?"

"You think we were sharing secrets and braiding each other's hair?" Tony snapped. "I just arrested this guy for murder, Fornell! He's not about to tell me squat!"

"You know as well as I do that if there's a leak in your agency, that person could be responsible for Mahoney going after Gibbs!"

Tony shot to his feet, the chair toppling over behind him.

"There's no leak, Fornell," he growled. "Leave it alone!"

With a look that left no doubt the conversation was over, Tony strode to the door and slammed it behind him, leaving a puzzled Fornell staring after him.

"What the hell just happened?" he muttered.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

After completing a quick call to the director, McGee had gone in search of Bishop, hoping to clear the air with the probationary agent and continue with their investigation. Finding her desk empty he took the elevator to the forensic lab in the bowels of the NCIS building, surprised when that, too, appeared deserted.

"Abby?" he called. "Are you in here?"

Walking further into the cavernous laboratory, he noticed the lights were off in the inner office and ballistics lab.

"Abs?" he called again.

He'd barely entered the glassed in area when the sliding door slid closed behind him and a bright light pierced the darkness and momentarily blinded him. He blinked several times to clear the spots from his vision and as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the silhouetted forms of Abby and Bishop.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"That's exactly what we want to know, McGee," Abby replied.

"You've been holding back on us, Tim," Bishop added. "And we want to know why."

"I wasn't holding back on you, I just-"

"Really?" she interrupted. "Then why did you refuse to even consider any of my observations. I know I'm new here but it feels like you don't trust me and I'd like to know why?"

"This was never about trust," McGee stammered. "You don't understand…"

"No, McGee, we don't understand but maybe you can explain this." Abby said, switching on the lights and walking across the room to her audio equipment. "I kept thinking about Tony not reading Mahoney his rights and how that's _totally_ hinky. I mean, Tony would _never_ make a rookie mistake like that, _never_. So…I requested the audio tape from the warehouse."

McGee felt the heat of a blush and hoped his traitorous ears would not give him away.

"Did you find something, Abby?" Bishop asked moving closer.

"I did. The Boss told me that my hunch was right."

Bishop's eyebrows shot up toward her hairline.

"You spoke to Gibbs?"

"Not our boss, silly_, the_ Boss…as in Bruce Springsteen."

"Wait…Bruce Springsteen told you that your hunch was right?"

"Correct!" Abby smiled. "I listened to the tape over and over and I heard some very faint music playing somewhere in the warehouse at the time the arrests were made. When I isolated it, I recognised the opening chords of the Bruce Springsteen song "The River."

"And this helps us, how?" Ellie asked.

"The song was starting just before Mahoney confessed to murder and Tony identified himself as an agent. This particular version is from an album of the same name that was recorded at the Power Station, New York and released in October 1980. It's five minutes and one second long."

"Still…not following you, Abby," Bishop frowned.

"On the audio tape from the surveillance, the song only goes for three minutes and thirty seconds," Abby told her. "There's, like, a whole big chunk of the song missing – one minute and thirty-one seconds to be exact."

"So…you think the tape has been tampered with and the part where Tony read Mahoney his rights has been cut," Ellie concluded. "But why wouldn't Tony just say that, unless…unless Tony _did _it."

Abby shook her head.

"The idea may have been his but there's no way Tony would know how to remove part of the digital recording…someone helped him."

Realisation struck and both women turned to impale McGee with eyes that reflected their anger. They took several menacing steps toward the acting lead agent with the bright pink ears.

"Er…okay…" McGee said, backing up slowly and raising his hands in supplication. "Let me explain…"

"You knew! All this time, you knew and you didn't tell us!" Abby exclaimed. "How could you, McGee?"

"Abby, please! You need to calm down and listen to me," the IT Specialist pleaded. "I wanted to tell you, I swear, but I couldn't. I was following orders."

"Come on, McGee! Who gives a crazy order like that?" Bishop wanted to know.

The three heads turned quickly in the direction of the sliding glass door as Director Vance's voice sounded from the other side.

"I do."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Steam billowed from the coffee mugs as Fornell walked outside into the night air. Bracing himself against the cold, he looked around and spotted DiNozzo sitting at the far end of the veranda. The younger man watched in silence as Fornell approached and then nodded his thanks as the FBI agent handed him a hot beverage.

"You want to tell me what that was about?" Fornell asked, taking a seat beside him.

The question was left unanswered for several moments as both men sipped the warming coffee.

"There's no leak at NCIS…never was," Tony said flatly. "I'm the reason the Mahoney's went after Gibbs. This is on me."

Fornell remained silent, allowing Tony to gather his thoughts. The ex-cop's eyes grew dim with recall as he was drawn back to the memory.

"Gibbs and I were questioning Mahoney in Philly when we got the news that Billy…my CI, Billy Simmons…had been murdered. We knew that Mahoney was behind it but he just sat with this shit-eating grin on his face. I guess I lost it; I tried to take Mahoney's head off…probably would have if Gibbs hadn't stepped in and dragged me outta there."

Tony huffed a humourless laugh at the memory.

"Gibbs did what Gibbs does…got in my face; reminded me that we already had enough evidence to put Mahoney away for life. Told me something he's told me a thousand times since we met – _DiNozzo, keep your fists in your pockets and your feelings out of the way._"

The almost perfect Gibbs impression caused a small smile to ghost across the FBI agent's lips.

"I still don't see how this is your fault," he said.

"_Because I blew it!_ I must have let my guard down or..._something!"_ Tony said, carding one hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't know what Mahoney thought he saw but the sonofabitch told me _that_ was the moment he decided that targeting Gibbs would make me suffer more than coming after me."

Fornell wasn't surprised to hear it. He recalled several years ago when he had been forced to arrest Tony for murder. Despite the damning evidence against him, Gibbs' belief in his agent's innocence had never wavered. He had witnessed Gibbs in full Papa bear mode and knew the lengths each of these men would go to for the other. On the surface, they appeared to be lead agent and subordinate but in reality an unshakable loyalty and something akin to a familial bond existed between them.

Both men were proficient in hiding their true emotions but, in times of great stress they looked to each other for support. Fornell had no doubt that, exhausted and grieving, DiNozzo may have tipped his hand and Mahoney had pounced on the perceived weakness. But he had no intention of adding to the ex-detective's burden of guilt when they needed his head in the game.

"Seems to me you're giving Mahoney too much credit," he said. "It's no secret that you've been Gibbs' partner for, what, nearly fifteen years? Anyone with half a brain knows what it takes for a partnership to last that long in our line of work. Mahoney knows we have the upper hand now. He's trying to get inside your head...don't let him."

Tony searched Fornell's face, desperate to find truth in the man's words. He wasn't certain the FBI agent was right but he'd given him enough hope to forcefully shove the torment and guilt into the recesses of his mind...at least for now.

"You know, Toby," he grinned. "You keep this up and people are gonna start thinking you like me."

Fornell's face remained implacable but his eyes flashed with a hint of humour.

"We know better, DiNozzo," he said. "We know better."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Bishop's eyes grew wide as she studied the director's stern expression.

"Director Vance," she began as the door slid open to allow him entry. "Um, before... when I said that the order was crazy…I, um, obviously didn't realise it was _your_ order. I mean, if you gave the order than it would be anything _but_ crazy. What I meant to say is…"

Vance waved the probationary agent quiet before she dug a deeper hole for herself.

"McGee?" he said abruptly.

"They know, Sir," McGee replied. "Abby examined the surveillance tape. They know we modified it."

"But what we don't know is _why _you modified it," Abby said before adding a tentative, "Sir."

Vance looked thoughtful for a moment before gesturing them toward the chairs near Abby's desk.

"Take a seat."

He waited until they were all seated before beginning the briefing.

"When it became obvious that a prisoner exchange would not be authorised through official channels, DiNozzo approached me with an unorthodox alternative that required him to go "off book." He met with Mahoney's attorney, Victor Ambrose, and told him that he would ensure the murder charge was dropped if the Mahoneys agreed to release Gibbs. With Sean Mahoney looking at life in prison, they jumped at the offer."

Bishop quickly put the pieces together.

"So Tony had McGee modify the surveillance tape so the JAG prosecutor would have no choice but to drop the murder charge and release Sean Mahoney from NCIS custody," she said.

McGee nodded. "Plus, Tony's perceived failure to read Mahoney his Miranda rights added an extra incentive for Mahoney to agree to the offer."

"Why?" Abby asked.

"Because Tony would be brought up on disciplinary charges and his career seriously compromised," McGee replied before the director continued the briefing.

"As you know, our prisoner transport vehicle was targeted on the way to Philadelphia and Mahoney escaped with two men wearing ski-masks."

"Tony!" Abby said with certainty. "But, wait…two men?"

"With the possibility of a leak in our agency, DiNozzo enlisted the help of Agent Fornell," Vance explained. "They have Sean Mahoney at a safe house and will offer to exchange him for Gibbs."

"So…Tony double-crossed Victor Ambrose to secure Mahoney's release but Ambrose can't do anything about it unless he admits his client _was_ read his Miranda Rights and the murder charge would be reinstated," Bishop said, nodding her approval. "Nice."

"Tony and Gibbs are like family, Director," Abby said. "Excuse me for asking but why were we kept out of the loop on this?"

"Two reasons," Vance told her. "Firstly, if there was a leak in our agency, we had to assume that all MCRT members were under close scrutiny. That being the case, it was imperative that everyone's reaction to Mahoney's release and DiNozzo's suspension be genuine and believable. I have just spoken with Agent DiNozzo and he now believes there is no leak."

"And the second reason?" Abby asked.

"Deniability. There are still thirty different ways this plan could fail. If it does, DiNozzo insisted that he be the one to take the fall."

"No!" Abby exclaimed.

"Excuse me, Sir, but you're comfortable with that?" Bishop asked.

"I wouldn't be telling you this if I was," Vance replied. "So far, DiNozzo's done the heavy lifting on this one – it's time to share the load."

The shrill from a computer interrupted the discussion.

"Ooh, my baby's calling," Abby declared as she excused herself and hurried to its location. "I have a facial recognition on the guy who purchased the laptops James Mahoney used to Skype with Tony."

The others left their seats to gather around.

"Meet Richard Alexander, thirty-eight years old from Detroit, Michigan," the forensic specialist stated.

"Richard Alexander?" Bishop repeated. "That's not possible."

"Do you have something, Bishop?" Vance asked.

"Yes, Sir, Richard Alexander's name appeared on a list of Mahoney's known associates. I did a search and according to the NCIC, he has another two years to serve of a ten year prison sentence for aggravated assault."

The director exchanged a glance with his acting team leader.

"McGee?"

The IT Specialist moved to Abby's computer and began typing furiously.

Ellie frowned in concern.

"Did I miss something?" she asked.

"The Department of Corrections can be a little slow updating the NCIC," McGee explained to the probationary agent. "It's best to cross-check directly with the detention centre in case they-"

"McGee?"

"I got something," he stated. "Richard Alexander was granted parole from the FDC Philadelphia six weeks ago."

"He wasted no time hooking up with his pal, Mahoney," Vance replied.

Bishop felt her stomach tighten.

"There's something else you should know," she said. "According to my background check, Alexander washed out of the US Army Rangers ten years ago but not before he received extensive training as a sniper."

"OMG!" Abby exclaimed. "This is a set up. James Mahoney was never interested in an exchange. He's going to use Gibbs as bait to kill Tony!"

"McGee, call DiNozzo, give him a heads up about Alexander," Vance instructed, turning to include everyone in his glance. "Do whatever it takes, but find them. Fast."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—**

Standing out front of Philadelphia PD Headquarters, Victor Ambrose stabbed the fast-dial button on his cell with an immaculately manicured finger and cursed silently when James did not pick up. Instead, a recorded message sounded.

"_The cell phone you have called is currently switched off. Please try again later."_

Battling his panic, he took several deep breaths to calm himself and thought back over the last few days. How did this all go to hell so fast?

Uncharacteristically beguiled by undercover NCIS agent, Anthony DiNozzo, his close friend and client, Sean Mahoney had admitted to killing a young US Marine and had been arrested and charged with murder one. In an act of desperation, Mahoney had instructed his son, James, to kidnap DiNozzo's partner and mentor, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, in an attempt to force the government to agree to a prisoner exchange.

When the government refused to acquiesce, the attorney believed all was lost. He was more than surprised when he was contacted by DiNozzo who was willing to destroy his reputation and career in exchange for his partner's life. DiNozzo's plan was extreme and Ambrose had remained sceptical until the murder charge was officially dropped and arrangements for his client to be transferred to Philadelphia had been finalised. The proverbial icing on the cake had been when DiNozzo was suspended from duty and ordered from the building by the NCIS director.

Making a quick stop at his office, Ambrose electronically transferred a huge amount of money from Mahoney's Cayman Island account. The money would be needed to post bail once his client was arraigned. He'd contacted James Mahoney, instructing the younger man to meet them at a pre-determined airport where they would board a private jet to the Cayman Islands.

As relieved as James was that his father's release was imminent, he possessed a malicious streak a mile wide and his need to make DiNozzo pay still burned furiously. He needed to get the kid on the plane and out of the country before things got a whole lot worse.

Fifteen minutes ago, Ambrose arrived at Philly PD Head Quarters expecting to arrange a fast arraignment for his client. The desk sergeant had informed him that the prisoner transport from NCIS had been ambushed en-route and Sean Mahoney had escaped with two masked men. Both Philly PD and NCIS suspected James Mahoney...but Ambrose knew better. DiNozzo had duped them again.

Hitting the re-dial button on his cell, he suppressed the urge to hurl it into the nearest wall when, again, James did not pick up.

**-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**

"In case I didn't tell you before," Tony told the FBI agent. "The ski-mask's a good look on you."

Tobias Fornell sat just out of camera-range, wearing his ski mask and tapping his fingers anxiously on the tabletop as the Skype ringtone continued unanswered.

"You gonna get that?" he asked.

"He'll call back," the younger man replied with a shrug.

"That's a big gamble you're taking, DiNozzo. If you're wrong-"

"I spent eight weeks with this guy, I know how he thinks," Tony replied. "He wants me dead and, since he can't do that, he'll do the next best thing."

"Right," Tobias remarked. "He'll kill Gibbs."

"Only if I'm watching," Tony said. "He _needs_ me to see Gibbs die and to know that it was my fault..._that's_ why he'll call back."

Their earlier conversation had given Fornell a rare insight into the paradox that was Anthony DiNozzo. The humour and apparent nonchalance were his smoke and mirrors; alleviating tension, sometimes hiding his intelligence and giving him an invaluable edge. Whatever the younger man had in mind, Fornell hoped like hell he knew what he was doing.

Tony flashed a variation of his signature grin as the Skype ringtone sounded again.

"Show time," he said as he reached across to take the call and James Mahoney's angry face filled the screen.

"You're late, DiNozzo," he snarled.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that," Tony said smiling apologetically. "I was trying to catch the end of Rear Window."

"You were _what?_" James exclaimed incredulously.

"You know...James Stewart plays a wheelchair bound photographer who witnesses a murder from his apartment window. The plot's not as far-fetched as it sounds, you know. We had a case a few years back where a young MIT graduate thought she saw-"

"Enough!" James yelled, silencing the other man. "Always the joker, right, funny man? Well I've gotta joke for you. You may have got the murder charges dropped against my father, but only an idiot would believe that after all of this, we'd really let Gibbs go."

In his periphery, Tony saw Fornell straighten in his seat as they realised that James was not aware that his father did not reach Philadelphia as planned.

"I want to see Gibbs," Tony ground out.

"Oh you'll see him," Mahoney replied. "You'll see him when I detonate that bomb and blow his brains all over this room."

"Show me Gibbs..._now!_"

Mahoney walked out of frame and a scuffle was heard before Gibbs was dragged into view and deposited roughly into the chair in front of the camera. The bruising on his face had deepened and looked stark against his pale skin as the former Marine struggled to stay conscious. Taking a few deep breaths, he straightened his shoulders defiantly and stared at Tony's image on the screen.

"DiNozzo," he rasped as Mahoney shoved in beside him.

"Got any last words to say to your boss?" James hissed. "Cause in about two minutes, I'm gonna blow his damn head off."

Tony's expression hardened; cold fury hovering just below the surface as he looked at Gibbs' battered face. He took a moment to calm himself, before leaning into the camera.

"Hey, Boss," he said quietly. "Remember when I first joined NCIS. I'd come over to your place with a six pack and we'd cook steaks cowboy-style and play a few hands of poker? I'd always be waiting for that royal flush and you nailed me every time with three of a kind or two pairs. You remember what you used to tell me?"

He waited until Gibbs nodded his head; the recollection teasing a small smile.

"If ya wait too long for the win...you lose," Gibbs said breathlessly. "Can't always wait…for the best hand."

"Well, you're not gonna believe this, Boss, but I finally got my royal flush."

Tony reached out with his left hand and adjusted the angle of the laptop until the camera panned to show Sean Mahoney, bound and gagged with Tony's Sig pressed firmly into his temple.

Gibbs' gut tightened painfully and for a brief moment, strong emotion flashed over his usually stoic features. Before he could respond, Tony turned his attention to James Mahoney.

"That bomb has a blast radius of ten yards, Mahoney," he said. "You would need to be in the next room to have any chance of survival. If you think you can make it before I can pull this trigger then go ahead and try."

James Mahoney's jaw hung open in surprise and he stared at the image on the screen as if weighing his chances. Deciding not to risk his hand, he placed the detonator gently on the table and backed away.

"Looks like we have an impasse," he said. "What now?"

"We have our own exchange," Tony told him. "Your father for Gibbs."

"Ha!" Mahoney taunted. "After what you've done, you expect me to trust you?"

"If you want your father back, you have no choice," the agent's face hardened and his voice turned to ice. "Time for you to ante up, man, because I'm not bluffing and the joker is wild!"

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**

**A/N One more chapter should do it. I hope you'll join me for the completion of this story. Many thanks for your support. L xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**Impasse**

**Chapter 6**

**A/N - In answer to the many gentle "pokes and nudges," yes, this story will be finished. This was to be the last chapter but I stopped halfway as I needed to post something in gratitude of your patience and understanding. I'm working on the next chapter and promise it will be forthcoming shortly.**

James Mahoney's face darkened to crimson but his eyes revealed a flash of panic as he began to realize that he had lost the upper hand in the negotiation. What the hell had happened? When he'd spoken with Victor Ambrose earlier, the attorney had assured him that his father was about to be transported back to Philadelphia and his release on bail was all but guaranteed. He withdrew his cell from his pocket and cursed when he saw the missed calls.

"Looks like someone didn't know that Dad didn't make it to Philly," Tony said. "Rule number three, James, never be unreachable. You want your old man back, you're gonna have to give me Gibbs."

Quickly regaining his composure, Mahoney's lips drew back, not so much smiling as baring his teeth.

"We trusted you once before, DiNozzo, and look what happened? How do I know this isn't a trap and there won't be a dozen feds waiting for me?"

"Come on man, think about it. I flushed my career down the toilet when I had the charges against your old man dropped," Tony told him. "Besides, NCIS has a very strict policy about abducting their prisoners and handcuffing their agents to a tree. Tends to make them a little cranky."

All trace of glibness left Tony's voice and his featured hardened as he added…

"You targeted Gibbs because you knew the lengths I'd go to get him back…and you were right. You really think I'd risk his life now?"

James Mahoney flicked his gaze to his father, recognising the indignation and fury etched on the older man's face. After a prolonged pause, Mahoney Senior gave a curt nod of his head and James returned his attention to Tony.

"There's a new commercial estate being built in Cathedral Heights. You know it?" James asked.

"Off Arizona Ave," the agent replied. "Opens in a few months."

"In the middle of the complex there's a vacant block of land that's been zoned for parkland. Use the entrance on the western side. I'll meet you there at 7AM sharp."

"7AM," Tony repeated. "I'll be there."

"If I get even a hint that you're playing me…your boss is dead. You got that?"

Tony nodded slowly. "Yeah…I got it."

Turning his eyes to the badly beaten lead agent, Tony noted that stubbornness and defiance had given way to pain and exhaustion. Gibbs' head had pitched forward and Tony wasn't even sure he was conscious. The younger man clenched his fists and swallowed the rage that threatened to choke him.

As if responding to Tony's silent plea, Gibbs fought to raise his head. His face was a mixed pallet of colours, swollen and bloodied. He looked toward the computer screen and tried to focus his uninjured eye on his agent. Their eyes met fleetingly and Tony hoped the former Marine could hear the unspoken message he was trying to convey.

"_We're coming for you, Boss."_

Grabbing Gibbs by the hair, Mahoney roughly forced the agent's head back.

"Don't screw with me, DiNozzo," he said. "Remember, you've got just as much to lose as I have."

Tony huffed a laugh; his eyes never leaving his injured team leader.

"Not even close, Mahoney," he said quietly. "Not even close."

The screen faded to black as the call was ended.

Flicking the safety on his weapon, Tony re-holstered his SIG and fixed a glare on Sean Mahoney that could melt the ice caps.

"Get him outta here," he instructed Fornell, who assisted Mahoney to his feet and led the bound man down the hall and into the locked room.

Taking a deep breath, Tony spoke aloud into the com-link.

"McGee, you get that?"

"Got it Tony," McGee replied. "The tracker in your laptop worked fine. We were able to trace Mahoney to a vacant house in Brightwood Park. I'll have Metro PD watch the place till I get there and-."

"No," Tony ordered. "No cops, no Feds."

"Tony, I-"

"I said no cops, McGee," Tony repeated sternly. "The only way this is gonna work is if Mahoney thinks I'm working outside of the law. If he gets a whiff of cops he's going to trigger that collar bomb and Gibbs is dead. Besides, if I know James, he's already packing up and he'll be gone before they get there."

"O-kay," McGee drawled uncertainly. "So how do you wanna play this?"

"The best chance we have of getting the boss back is to go through with the exchange. In the meantime, we need to take Mahoney's accomplice out of play. You gotta name?"

"Abby identified him as Richard Alexander. You know him?" McGee asked.

"Never met him but I heard Mahoney talk about him," Tony replied. "He's worked with the Mahoney's before…they trust him."

"The guy's a former sniper with the Army Rangers," the IT Specialist told him. "We have a BOLO out on him but so far, we haven't had any hits."

"Stay on it."

McGee cleared his throat before continuing.

"Tony, you _know _this is a trap. Mahoney wants you to watch Gibbs die…and then Alexander's gonna kill you."

"If you're blocking the signal to the collar bomb, we can still get Gibbs out of this," Tony replied.

"But you'll be completely exposed," McGee argued.

"Not completely - you guys will be watching my six."

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—0**

James Mahoney slammed the laptop closed and cursed vehemently. He hurled a small portable lantern across the empty room and watched as it shattered against the wall. The panic he'd been suppressing during the Skype call now manifested itself as rage and, shoving his shaking hands into his pockets, he took a few deep breaths to clear his head. DiNozzo's interference had been unexpected but their plan could still work. He could still get his father back and satisfy his burning desire to watch the demise of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

Turning on his heel, he advanced toward Gibbs and dragged the injured agent to his feet. Gibbs tightly clenched his teeth as every aggrieved muscle protested but any trepidation the older man felt was hidden under a bone-hard shell of stoicism.

"Looks like you're gonna be my house guest for one last night," Mahoney told him.

With his hands still cuffed behind his back, Gibbs was led outside. The bright sunshine drove shards of agony into his brain and he stumbled, barely remaining upright. Mahoney opened the back door of a van and Gibbs was shoved roughly inside. Moments later, the engine roared and the van screeched off to another unknown destination.

Bracing himself against the erratic movement of the vehicle, the former Marine closed his eyes in a vain attempt to counter a pounding headache and nauseating dizziness. Despite the considerable physical ailments, it was the revelations heard during the Skype call with Tony that roiled his gut and were almost his undoing.

He had given Tony a direct order, "_Get this done._" He had ordered DiNozzo to adhere to the government mandate – no prisoner exchanges - Mahoney was not to be released under any circumstance. Okay…so his order may have been chronically short on words and detail… but if there was one person who spoke fluent _"Gibbs;" _someone who could be trusted to accurately interpret every look and discern the most subtle of his mannerisms; it was his partner of fourteen years.

Gibbs had no doubt that the younger man had understood the explicit, but unspoken, implications of his order. Yet, for the first time since he recruited the ex-detective, Tony had deliberately disobeyed him. With SecNav and Vance bound to uphold the mandate, there was only one explanation for Tony's actions – he'd gone off book; risking his career and his life for Gibbs.

"Dammit, DiNozzo," he whispered.

The former Marine cast his mind back to the Skype call. With the muzzle of Tony's sidearm held firmly to Mahoney Senior's head, Gibbs had never seen his agent look as menacing or calculated. His considerable undercover skills were such that James Mahoney hadn't dared call his bluff. If Mahoney had triggered he bomb, Gibbs fleetingly wondered whether Tony would have pulled the trigger in retaliation. He quickly dismissed the thought. Although Gibbs had often trampled the fine line between justice and revenge, his agent never had.

A crooked smile ghosted quickly over his cracked lips and he was surprised to realize that he was equally pissed and proud of his agent. If, by some stroke of luck, they survived tomorrow's exchange, he vowed to give the young man a heartfelt "attaboy" – right after he kicked his ass.

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—0**

Having escorted Mahoney senior to the locked room, Fornell removed the ski mask and ran his hand over his bald head as he made his way back to the living room. He stood silently in the doorway watching as Tony leaned back on his chair and stared at the ceiling as if seeking answers. If the move was designed to convey nonchalance, it failed. Tony scrubbed at his red-rimmed eyes. He needed sleep to face whatever they threw at him tomorrow but sleep was a luxury he didn't have right now.

"How are you holding up?" the FBI agent asked as he entered the room. He didn't miss the way Tony's hand started toward his weapon before abruptly aborting.

"Geez, Fornell, you trying to scare me to death," Tony says feigning a shudder. "Put the ski mask back on!"

Tobias grinned, admiring the man's ability to camouflage his true feelings. He flipped the chair around and straddled it; crossing his arms over the back and waiting a moment before speaking again.

"That was a pretty gutsy play back there."

"Not really," Tony shrugged. "James Mahoney's a murdering SOB but he loves his old man. He wouldn't do anything that put him at risk."

"All the same…what would you have done if Mahoney had called your bluff?" he asked before retracting the question with a hasty, "Don't answer that, I don't think I wanna know."

The older man ran a hand over his jaw thoughtfully.

"It's not too late to reconsider. Say the word and I can have the Bureau's Hostage Rescue Team ready to go."

"No," Tony replied. "Like I told McGee, if James Mahoney gets a whiff that he's being played, he won't hesitate to kill Gibbs. We stick to the plan…let him think that he's still got the upper hand. If we do this right, we'll get Gibbs back and we've shut down a dangerous drug syndicate."

"And if it goes all goes to hell?"

"Then I'll be dusting off my resume," Tony answered, hoping the levity in his tone would defuse the knife-edge tension in the small room

Fornell sighed audibly and shook his head.

"_If _you survive this, a resume won't help. Depending on the outcome, you could be looking at fifteen to life."

"Ya picked me right up there, Toby," Tony quipped. "Shouldn't you be out there looking for a kid with a balloon to pop?"

Fornell wasn't fooled by the carefree façade.

"I'm serious, Tony," he said, in a rare use of the agent's first name. "You can't really think that Vance or McGee, hell, any one of us will allow you to take the fall alone. It's madness!"

"It is what it is," Tony stated evenly. "You signed on knowing this could get ugly. So far, Mahoney hasn't seen your face; he has no way of identifying you. If you're having second thoughts, tell me now while there's still time for you to get the hell out."

Once again Fornell found himself marveling over the paradox that was Tony DiNozzo. He couldn't help but respect the younger man's commitment and loyalty. He was, after all, putting it all on the line for Gibbs. The silence between grew until the FBI agent met DiNozzo's determined gaze.

"I think you're out of your mind," he replied. "But I'm in."

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—0**

Ellie Bishop and Ducky stood alone in the observation room, watching through the one way glass as Victor Ambrose paced like a caged lion.

"Oh my…I see what you mean, Eleanor," Ducky said. "He does appear rather…formidable."

"That's one way to describe him," Ellie replied.

"Tell me, my dear, how would you describe him?"

"Intimidating, arrogant, turgid…"

"Turgid?" he repeated.

"Forty-seven down in Monday's Times crossword," Ellie smiled shyly. "I've been waiting all week to use it in a sentence."

"From what we know of Mr Victor Ambrose, turgid is an apt description. However, I get the feeling that the man's disposition is not the only thing that has you worried."

"It's just a feeling really," Bishop replied. "I just can't help wondering where Joseph Pangetti fits in?"

"The security guard who manufactured the collar bomb for Mahoney?" Ducky asked.

"Yes. We know that Richard Alexander is an associate of James Mahoney's but I have checked for links between the Mahoneys and Pangetti and I've found nothing!"

"And you think Victor Ambrose knows what that connection is?"

"I think Victor Ambrose _is_ the connection. But it doesn't matter; he's definitely not going to tell me," the young woman stated resignedly. "I know interviewing and taking statements is a big part of my job description but I usually have Gibbs or Tony or McGee sitting with me. They are so great at this…and I'm…not so great."

"Nonsense, I am quite certain that Director Vance would not have sent you to speak with this man if he did not have complete faith in your ability."

"I think it had more to do with the fact that I was the only one available," Ellie quipped.

"Eleanor," Ducky said somberly. "I have known Leroy Jethro Gibbs for many years and if there is one thing I can say with the utmost certainty, it is that you would not be here if he did not think of you as an integral team member. Your team needs you now…_Jethro_ needs you."

Ellie took a deep breath and released it slowly.

"You're right," she said, placing her hand on the older man's forearm. "Thank you, Ducky."

A moment later, the ME shifted his gaze to the interview room where, with a hint of trepidation, Ellie Bishop opened the door and joined the Mahoney's attorney. Ambrose looked questioningly at the door as if expecting someone else to join them.

"I asked to see Director Vance," he said curtly.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Ellie replied politely, "The director is in a meeting at the moment and can't be disturbed. He extends his apologies and asked me to speak with you on his behalf."

Clearly irritated by the change in plans, the attorney eyed the young agent with obvious disdain.

"And you are?"

"Oh, excuse me. I am Special Agent Eleanor Bishop," she replied. "Shall we sit down?"

Ambrose huffed a humorless laugh.

"Were you recruited out of middle school, _Ms_ Bishop?"

"Actually, it's Special Agent Bishop and, no, I transferred to NCIS from NSA just under a year ago."

"Then am I correct in assuming that you are a _probationary_ agent?" Ambrose continued.

"Yes, Sir, that is correct."

"Well then, _Ms_ Bishop, unless you wish to be a material witness in a thirty-five million dollar law suit against this agency, I suggest you step outside and find me Director Vance or a real agent."

Ellie's stomach clenched and a flush of heat coloured her face. She clasped her shaking hands on the table in front of her to still them.

"I can assure you, Mr Ambrose, I am quite capable of hearing your complaint and ensuring it is forwarded through the correct channels."

"This agency did not simply misfile a booking sheet, _Ms_ Bishop. My client was forcibly removed from NCIS custody by one of your own agents!" Ambrose leaned forward menacingly into Ellie's personal space. "And know this, I will not only petition for a full congressional inquiry into the operation of this agency but I will stop at nothing to ensure that Tony DiNozzo is prosecuted to the full extent of the law."

Ellie dropped her gaze to her clasped hands and attempted to compose herself. She took a few deep breaths and when she forced herself to meet the attorney's challenging glare, her voice was steadier.

"You're right," she said with an apologetic shrug. "Maybe I am too inexperienced. I mean, Tony DiNozzo has been a law enforcement officer for almost twenty years and has an unblemished record. I would _never_ have suspected him over your client James Mahoney who, as it happens, is already wanted for the violent abduction of Special Agent Gibbs."

A smug smile ghosted over the attorney's lips as Bishop frowned and continued.

"Yet, despite the fact that there is absolutely no evidence against Tony, you seem so sure that he's guilty," she said tapping a finger to her pursed lips. "It's like you know something that we don't. But that's silly, right? I mean, an attorney of your considerable standing would never be involved in impeding a federal investigation."

"Anything I do or do not know, _Ms _Bishop, is protected by attorney/client privilege," Ambrose snarled.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr Ambrose, but I believe attorney/client privilege does not apply to any communications made in furtherance of a crime like, say, arranging the meeting of Joseph Pangetti and James Mahoney or conspiring to abduct and murder a federal agent."

For a fleeting moment, Ambrose looked rattled before surging to his feet.

"I think we're finished here," the attorney said as he stormed toward the door. "Tell Director Vance that he'll be hearing from my congressman. And you, _Ms_ Bishop, will be at the top of the list of material witnesses."

"It's _Special Agent_ Eleanor Bishop," she said smiling sweetly. "I wouldn't want you to make a mistake on your paperwork."

Ellie opened the door to the interview room, allowing Ambrose to precede her. She turned quickly toward the one way glass and gave the ME an exaggerated wink.

From the observation room, Ducky felt his chest fill with pride. The young agent had not only rattled the attorney but she may have also found the chink in the armour of the pompous Victor Ambrose.

"Well done, Eleanor," he chuckled. "Well done."

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-0**

Leaning forward in his chair, Director Vance grazed his thumb and forefinger over tired eyes and squinted at his watch – he had ten minutes before he was due to meet with the MCRT for an update on their investigation.

He had always been comfortable with the encumbrance of leadership - it was something he'd aspired to from very early in his career. But even his experience in counter-intelligence hadn't fully prepared him for the politicking and Machiavellian ways of Washington DC and nothing could lessen the burden of responsibility that came from placing agents in harm's way.

As NCIS Director, Leon Vance not only knew the "no prisoner exchange/no negotiation" mandate, he supported it wholeheartedly. But as a man and as a friend, he had failed to adhere to it and, as a result, he had jeopardized the lives and careers of his best people.

His gaze fell upon a framed photo of Jackie and his children and his chest constricted painfully. Since the loss of his wife his relationship with Gibbs had transformed from subordinate to friend. In his own unobtrusive way, the former Marine had been a source of support and reason when Vance's world had careened out of control. So, when he found his hands tightly bound by executive orders and red-tape, Vance did the only thing he could…he called his reserve quarterback into play.

With DiNozzo, there's what you see and what you get and the director had spent more time than he'd care to admit marveling at the incongruous harmony of goofball and highly competent agent. Although he was fairly certain that DiNozzo would have slipped the leash and gone after Gibbs without his help, if things ended badly, he was not prepared to let the younger man take the blame alone.

He sealed the envelope containing his resignation and placed it in the top drawer of his desk hoping, for all their sakes, that it never saw the light of day.

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-0**

**A/N Once again, thanks for your support. Don't give up on me...we're nearly there. L**


	7. Chapter 7

**Impasse**

**Chapter 7**

Richard Alexander cracked open the door to the abandoned warehouse. He waited until his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness before stepping forward but his breath caught as he felt the uncompromising barrel of a handgun pressed firmly against his spine.

"You're late," James Mahoney said flatly before re-holstering his sidearm.

"You're lucky I came at all," Alexander replied when his heart resumed beating.

Mahoney stepped back, allowing the other man to enter and then frowned irritably at the empty doorway.

"Where are the others?" he snapped.

"The Feds are turning this city inside out looking for you," Alexander replied. "I couldn't get near any of our associates without risking being caught myself."

"Be that as it may, you were paid to arrange backup."

"I was _paid_ to take out DiNozzo…I don't need backup for that."

"I need you to _disable_ DiNozzo, not to kill him," Mahoney corrected, allowing a perverse grin to form on his face. "I want to see the guilt and grief in his eyes when I blow Gibbs into a thousand pieces."

"I don't like it," Alexander said. "DiNozzo has double-crossed you before. How do we know that there won't be a dozen Feds waiting for us when we get there?"

"There's nothing cops hate more than when one of their own goes rogue," Mahoney replied, with a self-satisfied grin. "Right now, the only person the Feds want more than me is DiNozzo. Gibbs is like family to him - he'll come alone."

"So DiNozzo watches you kill his boss...and then what?" Alexander asked.

"Then I use his own own gun to put a bullet in his head and we get the hell outta there," Mahoney snarled.

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-0**

Habitually punctual, Leon Vance entered the forensic lab for the scheduled meeting with his team. Nodding a greeting he joined Abby, McGee, Bishop and Fornell in front of the large plasma.

"Thanks for coming in, Tobias," he said before turning to McGee. "DiNozzo?"

"Just coming online, Sir." The IT specialist pointing to the live feed now showing in an inset on the lower left corner of the screen. "Tony, you copy?"

"Loud and clear, Probie," Tony rasped.

"Let's begin," Vance said. "Where are we on the location of Mahoney's accomplice?"

"We have a BOLO out on Richard Alexander and surveillance on his and Mahoney's known associates but no hits so far," Bishop reported. "Wherever they are, they're lying low."

"McGee," Vance instructed, "bring up the schematics of the exchange site."

McGee's fingers flew across his keyboard and the plasma screen came to life displaying the plans for the up-scale commercial development, still vacant but currently nearing completion. Four sandstone wings formed a large rectangle; each section was five stories high with large casement windows that let in the light. The complex overlooked a significant quadrangle that was zoned as parkland. Although turf had recently been laid, work on the planned paths, fountain and gardens had not yet commenced leaving a flat grassed area twice the size of a football field. Taking in the plans, Fornell whistled softly and shook his head.

"Look at those windows," he said. "A sniper could take his position at any one of them."

Vance found himself wishing Gibbs was with them. The former Marine had an uncanny ability to extrapolate scenarios from a single look and without the need of computers. The famous Gibbs gut unerringly highlighted likely sniper positions or possible ambush attempts with a degree of accuracy that spoke of his years in the military. He'd trained his team well but this was his area of expertise...his wheelhouse. By the time Vance's musing had ended the agents had narrowed the options to four likely sniper positions.

"Too many windows and not enough agents," Bishop stated, her dark eyebrows drawn in concern. "Alexander could kill Tony the minute he steps into that clearing."

"He could, indeed, Eleanor, but I believe it is unlikely that he will." Ducky entered the lab and joined the discussion. "As we have already established, this entire elaborate scheme – from Jethro's kidnapping to the threat of the collar-bomb - has been set up for one purpose only."

"Retribution for Tony's role in shutting down Mahoney's operation," McGee ventured.

"Exactly," Ducky continued. "Mahoney's threat to kill Jethro is not to be underestimated but it is Anthony he truly wishes to see suffer in the most heinous way imaginable. He has no intention of killing Anthony before he forces him to witness Jethro's gruesome demise."

Hearing the words aloud, Abby gasped loudly and reached her the comfort of her stuffed hippo.

"Makes sense," Fornell said. "The shot from Alexander will be meant to disable DiNozzo but not kill him?"

Tony winced.

"You'll understand if I don't find that very comforting," he quipped.

"We need to know _exactly_ where Alexander will be," Vance continued. "Then Agents Fornell and Bishop can take him out of play before he can get a shot at DiNozzo."

"Right!" Tony agreed, relieved at the prospect of not taking a bullet. "What he said."

"What about me?" McGee asked as Vance held up his index finger to halt his protest.

"You'll be jamming the signal to the collar bomb," Vance told him.

McGee nodded thoughtfully. "You know...if we accessed the building _before_ Alexander, we could use thermal imaging equipment to track him to his position."

"Now you're talking, Probie," Tony encouraged.

"Wait…" Ellie said. "Alexander will most likely be in voice contact with Mahoney the whole time. If we move too early, Mahoney will know he's been had and he'll activate the collar bomb and kill Gibbs."

Fornell cleared his throat and put voice to the words no one wanted to hear.

"But if we move too late, we could lose them both."

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-0**

With a guttural growl born of frustration and exhaustion, Gibbs slumped back against the wall of the small, dark storage room and took several deep breaths. The fifteen minutes spent trying to loosen the zip-tie that bound his hands tightly behind his back had resulted in them cutting painfully into his wrists until his hands and fingers were slick with his own blood.

Feeling unusually lethargic, he rested his head against the wall and breathed deeply through his nose. His legs were also bound tightly at the ankles and he repositioned them to stop the painful prickling sensation of pins and needles. Desperately, he scanned the darkness once again in a futile attempt to find something he could use to get free. Now there was nothing he could do to but sit and wait for Mahoney to come for him.

Closing his eyes he allowed his mind to drift back to the last Skype call, wincing at the searing memory of Tony's Sig pressed firmly against Sean Mahoney's temple. From the moment he'd met the younger man in Baltimore he knew he was a wild card, prone to thinking and acting outside of the box. But, unlike himself, Tony had never before willing gone off-grid.

Despite the collar bomb still hanging menacingly around his neck, Gibbs knew that he was only the pawn in this game – a carrot being dangled precariously to lure DiNozzo into the open. He had warned Tony, correction, he had ordered him to stay away but the younger man was as stubborn as he was loyal. The thought of his agent coming anywhere near the blast range of the collar bomb sent a chill of apprehension rippling across his skin and he made a silent vow – he may not make it out of this alive but he'd make damn sure that Tony would.

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-0**

Having agreed on a plan to isolate Alexander's position, the team turned their attention to other matters of importance when the ringing of Bishop's cell phone turned all heads toward her. She hurriedly checked the caller ID and winced apologetically.

"Excuse me, Director," she said, "I need to take this."

Vance gave permission with a curt nod of his head before turning to address address Tony and McGee.

"Despite being in audio contact, Mahoney may use a visual sign to order Alexander to take the shot. Be ready for that."

"Yes, Sir," the agents responded together.

"Abs," Tony continued, "how stable are the explosives in the collar-bomb?"

"I ran some sensitivity tests on the remnants of the explosives used in the first collar bomb," Abby told him. "All of the components have been chemically desensitized to make them way safer to handle. You could, like, drop that collar bomb on the ground and stomp on it and it wouldn't blow up…not that I'd advise anyone to do that because, well, that's really, really _not_ a good idea."

"Abs."

"Right," Abby replied getting back on track. "The only way to cause the collar bomb to explode is to use a detonator."

"McGee, you got that covered?" Tony asked not liking the way the younger man squirmed nervously.

"It's not as easy as that, Tony," McGee replied. "The jamming technique developed for these remote systems consists of ensuring threat frequency band coverage, minimizing timing concerns due to duty cycling and channelizing the energy-"

"Probie!" Tony cut in. "Is this going to be one of those times when you make with the geek-speak until my ears bleed and I have to wave my hands in the air and make loud noises so you'll stop?"

"Er…possibly."

"Bottom-line it for me."

The younger man sighed audibly and started again.

"Tri-State Pyrotechnics only uses two frequencies to activate their RCIED remotes and we don't know which frequency will trigger the collar bomb. I can jam both signals simultaneously…but once Mahoney activates the remote, I can only hold them for sixty seconds. After that, the trigger system reboots and the device explodes."

"Sixty seconds," Abby whispered. "That's not long enough, McGee."

"It's gonna have to be, Abs," the IT Specialist told her, encircling her slim shoulders with his arm and giving her a sideways hug. "Regardless of the jamming device, once the button on the remote is pressed the collar bomb will explode in sixty seconds."

"No, no, no, no! We have to get Gibbs back, we _have_ to!" Abby exclaimed, wringing her hands anxiously and stepping so close to the camera that Tony stepped back from her distorted image. "Tony, _please_ tell me you'll be wearing a vest, _please!_"

"Abs, if Mahoney sees me wearing a vest, he'll know he's been set up and Gibbs is as good as dead," Tony explained. "I'll be fine...we're gonna get him back."

"You promise?" the scientist asked.

"Cross my heart and hope to…"

The unfortunate choice of words plunged the room into a heavy silence. Tony's face twisted in a grimace and he amended his statement with a tired grin.

"Scout's honour."

Bert the hippo made his presence known as Abby squeezed the stuffie tightly and Vance quickly changed the subject.

"Doctor Mallard," he said. "What can you tell us about Gibbs' physical condition?"

"As you can imagine, Director, accurately assessing Jethro's physical condition using only a grainy video image is extremely difficult," Ducky replied. "However, I believe there may be several causes for concern."

Taking up a remote from the counter top, the ME nodded toward the plasma as the screen split again and several still framed shots of Gibbs from the earlier Skype call appeared.

"Jethro's facial trauma suggests that he took several blows to the head, most likely during his abduction. His lack of coordination and drowsiness are symptomatic of a concussion but without a proper neurological assessment, there is no accurate way of knowing how if the injury is more serious. He has defensive bruising and abrasions on his limbs and extremities proving that, as we would expect, he did not go down without a fight...but he may have sustained more serious injuries which are hidden by his clothing."

"Ducky, if we have to get out of Dodge fast," Tony said. "Is he up for it?"

"Ordinarily, my dear boy, I would say no," Ducky replied with a wry smile, "but as we can all attest, Leroy Jethro Gibbs is no ordinary man."

"Anything else?" Vance asked.

"Yes, Sir, I've got something," Bishop replied excitedly. "We've been trying to find a link between the dead security guard, Joseph Pangetti and the Mahoneys and, so far, I've been drawing blanks. Pangetti had been clean for years before Mahoney forced him to make those collar bombs. In fact, even his employer and his colleagues didn't know that Pangetti was an Army explosives expert. They told me that he never spoke about his time in the Army."

"So whoever told James Mahoney about Pangetti must have had access to his military record," McGee reasoned. "An Army buddy? A family member?"

"Or, perhaps, his attorney?" Bishop added knowingly.

"Ellie, I know Ambrose really got to you but I already checked that," McGee said. "Pangetti was represented by a public defender name Samuel Benton. He died two years ago."

"That's right but when I spoke to Ambrose this afternoon, I got the feeling he was hiding something so I checked Pangetti's trial records again. The PD's office has just confirmed that while Samuel Benton was assigned to the case, during the trial he took two days emergency leave for family reasons. There were no other PD's available so the court ordered pro bono legal representation."

"Let me guess...Victor Ambrose."

"The one and only," Ellie grinned and turned to the Director. "If you don't mind, Sir, I would _so_ like to be the one to bring that pompous, overbearing misogynist in for questioning."

"No," Vance stated succinctly.

"Sir?"

"I'll send a detail to pick up Ambrose," the director explained as he looked at the tired faces before him. "You did good work, all of you, but the exchange is at seven and it's already after one. Get some rest - eat, shower, do whatever you need to do to be on your game. Go."

Vance watched as his team and Fornell reluctantly acquiesced and left the lab. Early in his tenure as Director of NCIS, Vance had strongly believed that the future of the agency belonged more to men like McGee than DiNozzo. Gibbs was quick to defend the ex-cop and adamant that if the agency was to continue to be an elite law enforcement organization, it needed men with the skill sets and expertise of both younger agents.

The director had to admit that DiNozzo's record spoke for itself and he had seen first hand that anyone underestimating the former detective did so at their own peril. He had no doubt that McGee would put his life and career on the line to save Gibbs but he was just as sure that only DiNozzo had the chops and the instincts to see this through. He took some comfort in knowing that, at 7AM, his agents would be right where they were meant to be – McGee handling the specialised computer equipment and DiNozzo in the field.

Vance returned his attention to the plasma where Tony's dishevelled image was still waiting to be dismissed.

"DiNozzo," he said. "Call the ball."

"Yes, Sir," Tony responded crisply. "I have the ball."

"Good luck."

"Thank you, Sir," Tony replied as the call ended and the plasma faded to black.

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—0**

The sun was just beginning to send a few timid streams of light across the horizon as McGee, Bishop and Fornell arrived at the exchange point two hours earlier than scheduled. The agents were dressed in black from watch caps to boots, the dark military camo paint smeared over their faces helped to keep them concealed in the semi-darkness.

Scanning the buildings with the thermal imaging and directional listening equipment, the agents had failed to detect anyone on site so they had stayed hidden on the perimeter of the quadrangle waiting and watching in the chilly pre-dawn hours.

When the exchange was just twenty minutes away, the thermal imaging device detected movement entering the building on the north side of the quadrangle. The agents watched in silence as Richard Alexander moved quickly through the vacant building, assessing various vantage points and unaware that his own body heat had betrayed him. Knowing that DiNozzo would be arriving from the western entrance, Alexander finally took up position in the east; one that granted the best view of the quadrangle below and anyone in it. He removed his rifle from the carry bag and assembled the weapon systematically and proficiently, leaving the silencer to last. With his weapon prepared, he waited.

"Let's move," Fornell said to Bishop, giving McGee a sharp nod as they left.

Gathering his laptop and the jamming equipment, McGee relocated to a position closer to the parkland and where he could see the entire quadrangle. If things should go to hell, he needed to be as close to his team-mates as possible. Despite successfully testing the jamming equipment multiple times, like a persistent mosquito, negative thoughts kept buzzing around his head and he kept slapping them away. He diligently checked the equipment for the umpteenth time – the stakes were too high to leave anything to chance.

He glared anxiously at his comlink until Fornell's whispered voice advised that he and Bishop were now positioned outside the small office where Alexander was situated.

"But we have a problem," Fornell continued gravely. "We can't see the park from here. You're gonna have to tell us when to move...and your timing will have to be perfect."

McGee's stomach plummeted and he held back a rare curse - just what he needed, a little more pressure. He acknowledged his understanding, feeling his chest tighten painfully with the added burden, then he cleared his throat and spoke quietly into the microphone on his headset.

"Tony, Alexander is here. Middle window, third storey, eastern side. He'll be directly in front of you as you approach. Fornell and Bishop are in position."

The IT Specialist frowned at the silence until one click on the comlink signalled Tony's wordless reply. The acting lead agent would have been wearing an earwig but with Sean Mahoney in the back of the van, Tony wouldn't risk Gibbs' life further by acknowledging he had well-armed back-up of his own.

"It's nearly time for the exchange," McGee continued as he lifted the binoculars to his eyes and looked out over the grassy parkland. "Mahoney will be here any minute. Are you close?"

Another click on the comlink answered the younger man's question and, breathing deeply, he tried to reassure himself that everything was in readiness and he took a moment to roll the tension from his shoulders.

Movement from the eastern side of the quadrangle caught his attention and he lifted the binoculars once more to see Gibbs walking unsteadily across the parkland with James Mahoney following some distance behind.

"Mahoney's here," McGee said quietly into the comlink. "He and Gibbs are making there way to the middle of the park."

"How's Gibbs?" Bishop whispered.

"The bomb's still around his neck," came the reply. "His hands are bound behind his back and he's unsteady on his feet."

"We're in position and ready to take Alexander on your mark," Fornell reiterated.

McGee shifted the binoculars quickly to the opposite side of the park as Tony led a handcuffed Sean Mahoney from the western end of the quadrangle.

"Tony, I have eyes on you," he said. "Remember, after the detonator is activated, I can jam the signal for just sixty seconds before the system reboots and the device explodes. We've got your back…good luck."

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—0**

Gibbs' head pounded and what had to be a sizeable concussion made it hard to walk but the ever-present threat of the collar bomb hanging around his neck and the detonator prominently held in James Mahoney's hand had him moving as fast as he could manage. He flexed his hands behind his back, again testing the strength of his bonds but they were secure and held fast.

Keeping his eyes on the ground and concentrating solely on putting one foot in front of the other was proving to be difficult as his vision swam, doubling in and out of focus and causing him to see twice as many feet on the ground as there should be. An unexpected shove in the back that nearly sent him sprawling to the ground but he regained his balance and held his position as he watched James Mahoney move safely out of the ten yard blast radius.

The uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach hardened into cold dread when he lifted his eyes to see Tony and Sean Mahoney emerging from the western side of the complex and walking toward him. He had no doubt the younger man would come for him – he was as loyal as a damn St Bernard – but a large part of him wished that Tony had heeded his order and stayed the hell away.

As the former detective approached, Gibbs scrutinised his agent's appearance through blurry and bloodshot eyes. Since the undercover operation began, eight weeks ago, the stress that had been Tony's constant companion had clearly taken its toll. The senior field agent looked exhausted; his jaw line now sported several days of stubble that was trying it's best to transform his goatee into a full beard. Tony held his SIG at ease but there was nothing nonchalant about the pose. In a split second he could bring it to bear with deadly force. The amicable, easy-going persona Gibbs knew so well was buried and all that remained was the dead-eyed stare of a man determined to get what he wanted or die in the attempt. The thought caused the older man's blood to run cold. If the collar bomb exploded, he may not be able to take Mahoney with him but he'd ensure Tony was as far away from the blast as possible.

"That's far enough," James Mahoney called.

Tony held his position just outside the blast radius, his eyes darting across to meet those of the former Marine.

"Boss," Tony said, unable to hide his concern.

"You shouldn't have come." Gibbs replied, his voice rough and low.

"You'd have come for me," his agent replied with certainty.

They fell silent for a long moment; communicating without words; offering unwavering support with a look that spoke volumes.

"Touching," James Mahoney said, his words dripping in sarcasm. "I've gotta hand it to you, DiNozzo. You sure are a loyal sonovabitch. Most of the people I know would pay to see their boss go off like a roman candle."

Tony's expression was enough to reveal his anger but his brittle voice left no doubt of his fury.

"Let's get this done," he replied.

James Mahoney's face displayed his mock surprise.

"What's the hurry, funny man?" he taunted. "No jokes? No movie quotes or famous DiNozzo one-liners?"

"I've got what you want, you've got what I want," Tony said. "The sooner this is done, the sooner you can go wherever the hell you're going."

Mahoney's smile faded and a his eyes burned brightly with barely restrained rage.

"You're right," he said, "Let's not put this off any longer."

With a quick glance in his father's direction, James Mahoney raised his free hand to adjust the peak of his ball cap. Watching closely through the binoculars, McGee felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end...the signal...that was the signal. He opened his mouth to shout a warning as a red laser dot zig-zagged across Tony's body before settling on his right thigh.

"_Tony, get down!"_ McGee yelled into the comlink. _"Fornell, move in! Move in now!"_

The next few seconds seemed to grow out of all proportion and stretch into infinity as McGee's senses kicked into overdrive. His attention was torn between the action in the complex and the deadly scene playing out in the park below.

The loud crunch of splintering wood signalled the destruction of the door separating Alexander from Fornell and Bishop and, almost simultaneously, the agent's voices resounded through his earwig.

"_Federal agents, drop your weapon!" _

Taken completely by surprise, Alexander startled, jerking the barrel upward and pulled the trigger. The agents were on him in a second, heedless of his comfort as they wrestled him forcefully to the ground and placed him in handcuffs.

On the park below, Tony moved with startling agility, throwing himself sideways with McGee's warning still ringing in his ears. A scorching pain blasted through his side like a blowtorch sending a shaft of white-hot pain searing through every nerve ending and leaving a shocked tingle in its wake. The bullet had caught the muscle and tissue continued straight through leaving a sizeable tear that was bleeding freely.

He dropped and rolled in a single, fluid motion. Biting down on an agonised scream, he steadied his SIG in a two-handed grip with the sight squarely on James Mahoney's chest.

"Drop the detonator, Mahoney," Tony ordered. "Now!"

As if weighing his chances, James Mahoney's eyes darted between the detonator in his hand and Tony's gun pointing directly at him.

"Don't do it!" Tony warned again.

Time seized and slowed as Mahoney's eyes darkened menacingly and his thumb twitched slightly toward the button. The agent fired twice, double-tapping the other man's heart and watching in horror as Mahoney pressed the detonator button before death claimed him.

The recoil of Tony's SIG sent a spear of pure agony into his injured side. His vision greyed and his knees buckled, sending him sprawling to the ground. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he laid gasping as his brain rebooted. There had been no explosion – McGee's jamming device had worked. The relief was almost overwhelming. The temptation to lay there, close his eyes and sleep for a moment was compelling until the insistent buzzing in his head became clearer and he recognised McGee's panicked voice reverberating through his earwig.

"Tony, stop Gibbs!" he yelled. "Stop him! I can only jam the bomb for another forty-nine seconds!"

Still dazed, the injured agent looked to where the former Marine had been standing and an incipient panic clawed at his chest when he noticed his boss had disappeared. Frantically looking to his left, he saw Sean Mahoney weeping over his son's body. Glancing quickly to his right, he spotted Gibbs stumbling recklessly toward the other end of the park with the collar bomb still hanging ominously around his neck. Not knowing about the jamming device, the lead agent was already fifty yards away, trying desperately to distance himself from Tony before the device exploded.

"Oh shit!" Tony cursed. "No, no, no!"

Climbing to his feet he clamped his teeth together, cutting off the grunt already beginning to escape. The world dipped sharply to the right and then righted itself as Tony tried to regain his equilibrium. A sudden rush of adrenaline sharpened his senses and increased his heart rate. Willing strength into trembling leg muscles Tony took a few unsteady steps and took off in pursuit.

"Boss!" Tony shouted. "Boss, _stop!_"

McGee's countdown continued.

"Tony, forty seconds."

Tony cranked up the pace but the burst of energy that had got him on his feet had just as quickly abandoned him. Pain stabbed through his side and he placed his hand over the wound to stem the blood flow. Trembling muscles and nausea threw up obstacles every step he took but it wasn't enough to puncture the incessant need to keep moving. He watched as Gibbs tripped on the uneven ground and fell hard, knocking the wind and a good portion of the fight out of him.

"Boss!" Tony gasped. "Stay down! _Stay down!"_

Gibbs lay gasping for breath and fighting against the urge to vomit. With his blood pounding deafeningly in his ears he took no notice of the faint voices in the distance, choosing instead to focus on regaining his feet and getting as far from his senior field agent as he could before the bomb exploded. Dizzy as hell and with his hands bound behind his back, the task was onerous but achievable. Assuming a semi-upright position, Gibbs urged his aching limbs onward and resumed his unsteady run as every sinew and muscle painfully made its presence known. Behind him, Tony had closed the gap to thirty yards.

"Twenty five seconds, Tony," McGee's strained voice called.

Too breathless to reply, the former detective acknowledged him with a useless nod of his head. Fear beat fast in his chest but he ignored it. Buried it. He tripped on the newly laid turf but managed to remain upright.

"Twenty seconds."

With a strength born of incalculable fear and the weight of Gibbs' life pressing down on him, the former detective found a turn of speed and steadily began closing the gap between them.

"_Dammit, Boss! Stop!"_ he called again.

Gibbs' worst fears were realised when Tony's voice and the sound of his agent's running feet registered in his consciousness only a few meters behind him.

"Stand down, DiNozzo!" Gibbs yelled without slowing or turning. _"Stand down."_

"_Fifteen seconds, Tony." _

Gibbs was less than three yards in front of him now and showing no signs of stopping. Tony's mind flashed back to his first encounter with the former Marine and, digging into the last of his reserves, every muscle screamed in protest as Tony launched himself in a flying tackle that knocked his boss off his feet. For a moment they were airborne, then the ground came up to meet them with a crunch that drove the air from Gibbs' lungs and momentarily stunned him.

"_Ten seconds!"_

Tony cursed vehemently as his shaking fingers desperately fumbled with the metal hinge of the collar bomb before it finally came free.

"_Five seconds!"_ McGee yelled.

Heedless of the injury to his side, Tony held the collar bomb in both hands, rotated his entire body twice to maximise momentum and power. A guttural scream ripped from his throat as he hurled the device into the air and threw his body protectively over Gibbs as the bomb exploded overhead and shrapnel rained down around them.

With his chest heaving and his ears ringing, Tony's heart skipped a beat as he realised the body beneath him hadn't moved.

"Boss? _Boss?_" he called worriedly. "Come on, Boss…don't make me kiss you again."

Another moment of silence passed before a quiet voice rasped.

"You try…you die!"

The younger man huffed a laugh and then groaned as movement aggravated his injured side.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked.

"I'll let you know…as soon as I can unclench my ass," Tony quipped between gasps.

"Appreciate the heroics, DiNozzo, but...you mind getting off me?"

"Ah…yeah…about that…" the younger man answered with a groan.

"Tony?"

Alarmed by the lack of reply, Gibbs twisted his body out from under his agent and blanched at the amount of blood now soaked into Tony's shirt and jacket. The younger man's eyes blinked rapidly to clear his vision and darted his hand into his pocket to remove his pocket knife.

"Turn around," he told his boss.

Gibbs turned his body to allow Tony access to his bound hands then frowned as the younger man closed his eyes and stilled.

"Hey! Stay with me," Gibbs said, nudging his agent with his knee. "Talk to me, Tony."

Tony's eyes opened and met the concerned gaze of his boss, then he turned and began to cut the zip-tie from Gibbs' wrists.

"You're…you're slowing down, Boss," the agent gently goaded. "Didn't even need…my tube socks this time."

Gibbs smiled at the memory and then hissed as the sharp blade made short work of the plastic tie and circulation was restored to his hands. By the time he'd turned back to his agent, Tony was losing his battle with consciousness. As his vision faded in and out, the younger man spotted McGee and Bishop running quickly toward them and nearly shot into orbit as the gruff, former drill-instructor yelled for a medic. As he let himself drift closer to oblivion, he had to admit that it was the best sound he'd heard for a long time.

**0—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-0**

Gibbs placed the sandpaper on the workbench and ran his fingers over the the smooth wood. Nodding in satisfaction, he rifled through a small box to find paper with a finer grain and stopped as he heard the front door close and the sound of footsteps entering his home. He continued working until his visitor arrived at the top of the basement stairs.

"The doc ordered you under observation until morning," the former Marine stated without looking up.

Tony smiled wearily at his boss' gruff greeting.

"The same doc ordered you home to rest?" he countered.

Gibbs' made a sweeping gesture of the basement.

"I'm resting," he said.

Tony began to walk down the stairs, wincing as he took the first step.

"Don't even think about it..." Gibbs ordered.

"Come on, Boss, I'm fine," the younger man insisted as he gingerly took the next step.

"You deaf, DiNozzo? You come down here you'll tear those sutures."

Tony cocked his head and flashed a smile.

"See…you really do care."

"S'not about caring," Gibbs told him brusquely. "It's about me having to carry your stubborn ass back there."

Packing away his hand tools, Gibbs walked slowly up the stairs; his expression revealed nothing but his slightly off-kilter gait told Tony the older man was still feeling the effects of the past few days.

"You eaten?" Gibbs asked as he ushered Tony into the living room and toward the couch.

"Not yet."

After a moment, Gibbs emerged from the kitchen, juggling two recently defrosted steaks and a couple of beers. He threw the steaks onto the grill in the fireplace, using a poker to provoke the embers into action. Walking back to the couch, he handed Tony a beer but refused to let go when a thought occurred.

"You drive here?"

"Cab."

Nodding, Gibbs relinquished his hold and the two sat side by side watching the naked flames leap and lick at the steaks. From the corner of his eye Gibbs watched as Tony opened and closed his mouth as if searching for the right words.

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

"I spoke to McGee," Tony began casually. "Vance and Fornell's cover story about a joint NCIS/FBI operation's holding up."

"I know."

"SecNav and the AG are tripping over themselves to take credit for bringing down the Mahoneys."

"Know that, too," Gibbs responded with a nod of his head.

Several more moments passed before Tony spoke again.

"They brought Ambrose in for questioning. As soon as he realised we had him cold for conspiracy to murder he rolled on the Mahoneys so fast he's suffering a bad case of whiplash."

Gibbs turned to Tony with a look hovering between bemusement and annoyance.

"You check yourself outta hospital to come tell me what I already know, DiNozzo?" he asked.

Tony shook his head no and took a long swig of beer.

"We have the rest of the week off but you're going in to the office tomorrow, aren't you?" he asked knowing his boss better than most.

"So are you," Gibbs countered.

Tony huffed a laugh and shook his head but the look in his eyes was anything but humourous.

"Was close this time, Boss," he said, rubbing his hand over his freshly shaved chin. "Too close. Think I'm gonna take the week. I need to work this through in my head."

Gibbs nodded silently and Tony sighed loudly before continuing.

"You ever wonder if its worth the risk…worth the sacrifice?" the younger man asked.

"Every damn day," Gibbs replied, placing his beer on the coffee table and then turning the steaks on the grill.

"Makes me wonder when our luck's gonna run out."

"You start fixating on not coming home, DiNozzo, it's time to turn in your badge."

Tony eyes dropped to the floor.

"I'm thinking about it, Boss," he said quietly.

Gibbs removed the steaks from the grill and dumped them unceremoniously on two plates. Both men reached for their pocket knives and began eating in silence. When they'd finished, Gibbs took the empty plates to the kitchen and returned handing Tony another drink. The younger man's eyebrows shot up.

"Come on, Boss," Tony protested. "Snapple?"

"You're on meds," Gibbs shrugged unapologetically. "I'm cutting you off."

With a look that conveyed his disapproval, Tony opened the Snapple and took a drink, grimacing at the taste of the sweet liquid. The two men fell into a comfortable silence, watching the hypnotic affect of the fire, before Tony spoke again.

"Is there a rule I don't know about, Boss?" he asked. "Maybe Rule number eighty-four - no matter how close you come to having your ass blown to hell you dust yourself off and go straight back to work."

Gibbs felt his gut tighten as the memory of the charred corpse and Tony's incinerated Mustang returned unbidden.

"You've done it before…" the lead agent stated.

"We both have," Tony replied as his mind flashed to an image of his Boss falling backwards down a metal staircase after narrowly escaping an explosion on a Deep Sea Explorer in Rota. He shook his head to rid his mind of the image. "This time it was different. You nearly died because of me."

"You didn't put the bomb around my neck, DiNozzo…you took it off."

Tony remained silent and Gibbs knew the younger man needed more.

"There's no rule for this one, Tony. You get a damn good team to watch your back," Gibbs hesitated slightly before turning to look his agent directly in the eyes. "and a partner you trust with your life. Then you get the job done, a day at a time."

The men sat quietly for a moment; their silence speaking words that would never be articulated.

"You did good, Tony," Gibbs said, not entirely hiding the pride in his voice.

"Thanks, Boss," Tony whispered, then yelped as a head slap stung the back of his head. "What was that for?"

"_That _was for disobeying my direct order and coming after me," Gibbs said, biting back a smirk.

"I think Mahoney hit you harder than you think, Boss, 'cause I did _exactly_ what you said," Tony countered, still rubbing his head. "You told me to get it done and…I got it done."

Gibbs flashed a rare unbridled smile of his own.

"Yes, you did," he replied proudly.

He tapped his beer bottle against Tony's Snapple in a silent toast before both men emptied their bottles in one swallow. Gibbs gathered the bottles and headed for the kitchen.

"Hit the rack," he said over his shoulder. "Spare bedroom's made up. Sweats and toothbrush are in the dresser where you left them."

Tony grinned.

"If I didn't know better, Boss, I'd think you've been expecting me."

Gibbs shrugged then watched as his agent gingerly climb the stairs the to spare bedroom. This was definitely not the first time the younger man had come to him with thoughts of quitting after a rough case. Hell, he'd had those thoughts himself more times than he cared to remember.

Generally, company, a good meal and a good night's sleep were all that was required to clear Tony's mind and regain any lost perspective. Still, Gibbs knew there would come a day when enough was enough – he just hoped that day hadn't arrived.

"Boss?" Tony called from the top landing. "What time are we leaving tomorrow?"

"Get your ass outta bed by zero six hundred and we'll call by the diner on the way to work."

"If you're buying, I'm there," Tony said with a grin.

"I'm buying," Gibbs nodded feeling the tension of the evening lift.

"Night, Boss."

"Good night, DiNozzo."

**THE END**

**0-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-0**

I hope the final chapter was worth the extraordinarily long wait. This will be my last story - at least for the foreseeable future. I have been lucky enough to receive enormous support from the FanFic community and have made many friends along the way. As my stories were written for FanFic readers, I will be leaving them on this site. Thank you for your kindness and support. With every good wish, Laine


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